The Fight To Be The Eldest
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: Amelie has the chance to destory her Father and gain the most important position of the vampire race: the head of the Council of Elders. When things don't go her way, and values are at stake, will she, Oliver and Myrnin achieve what they set out to? /R&R Penultimate chapter up
1. Prologue

**I got this idea for this story randomly, when I was writing a different story, but I hope you enjoy.**

**I don't own anything.**

***THIS IS A SORT OF PREQUEL TO 'A MISTAKE EQUALLING A CHILD?' BUT BY NO MEANS MEANS YOU CANNOT READ IT IF YOU DO NOT READ THIS MENTIONED FIC BECAUSE IT HAS NO BEARING ON IT WHATSOEVER...***

**Prologue...**

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_When they moved, they moved with a certain grace, knowledge that __**they **__were the best of their race, an entirely calm mantra about them. Nothing was rushed or hurried because there was no need. Other vampires feared them, because of their age, wisdom and violence._

_These were the vampire Elders._

_They had the power to destroy everything in the world, if they so wished. They could shape the residents of the planet, ensure that they are under their control, and if a vampire makes themselves unpopular with the Elders... Well, they wouldn't be able to be unpopular for long._

_They had powers._

_Nobody besides the vampire Elders knew what they were, although many had tried to find the secrets of the elite few. They had tried to eavesdrop on the meetings of those dressed in thick black robes in a deserted field at night, a stone of alchemy at their heart. People had tried to steal the books in which they wrote down their powers and rules, but they never succeeded._

_However, there was one weakness within the vampire Elders. Every single one of them desired to be THE Eldest. Nobody outside of them quite knew why, but they knew that the Eldest must have certain powers more than the others, that they were more special. This meant that every few years, sometimes more or less dependant on the strength of the Eldest, this person died and was replaced... This also meant that a new vampire had to join the Elders to replace the one who had been at the bottom but had moved up when the Eldest had lost their immortality._

_Everyone knew that the Elders were the only ones who could create new vampires; that is the reason why the others didn't join forces and break down the small number of Elders - they couldn't risk their race, for fear that they could never create a new generation..._

Yet Amelie could.

Amelie wanted to destroy the vampires at the top of the food chain, the ones who ultimately decided her destiny and whether she would be allowed to live. She wanted rid of this hierarchy of people who were nothing but a threat to the society she wished to build.

Yet Bishop wanted this as well.

Three hundred years Father and Daughter had been parted, severed connections entirely at the last point of call, but they ached for the same thing: to destroy the vampire Elders and to instate themselves as the Eldest - forever. Neither wanted a circle below them of vampires who would be always looking for a weakness, a way of destroying them to take their place. They wanted to be the _only_ one in control, the only one with a possibility of being in control – another vampire circle beneath them would just complicate matters.

Both wanted power and they wanted control. They wanted the deaths of every vampire Elder so they could learn the secrets of immortality, the secrets that led the Elders to be so feared by others. They wanted to be able to boast and say that they knew every single secret of their race and that they were the only ones who did, therefore meaning that if they were destroyed so was the entire race. They wanted _absolute_ control – nothing else would do. Every single Elder had to go, death being the only option.

Little did they know it, but the Father and Daughter, who had not spoken in centuries, would be working together in a bid to instate themselves as the Eldest in the world.

Just who would win?

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**Just a little setting of the scene here - I promise next chapter things will flow much more and get some action in there!**

**Please leave your opinions on it etc **

**Vicky xx**


	2. Decisions

**Chapter 2: **

**That reminds me, thank you to Madelyn Grey for the inspiration, in part, for this story!**

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"Amelie, we are _not _going to go and eavesdrop on the damned Elders, unless you want to die!" Myrnin exclaimed at her in shock that she could actually be considering this.

"Slot these grips into my hair, if you would," she replied coolly, changing the subject. The two hundred year old vampire sighed but did as his friend requested, fastening her long blonde hair into a tight bun as he did every morning. "And, Myrnin, it is not a fools mission nor a death wish," she continued, changing the subject deftly back once he had finished with her hair. She stepped away from him and fastened a thick gold chain around her neck that complimented the emerald green velvet dress she had deigned to wear that day.

"Let me guess, Amelie wishes to go and see the Elders, or rather spy on them," Oliver's voice droned into the room, causing both of the other vampires to turn and look at him in disgust. Myrnin, simply because he hated Oliver and wasn't particularly going to smile even when they agreed, and Amelie, because they had disagreed on what to do in regards to the Elders.

Amelie didn't want a circle beneath her, but rather her friend Myrnin as her friend and Oliver as her second - she needed one, she realised, and Oliver was the perfect choice. He may have been only almost half of her near three hundred years but he was powerful and she knew if she didn't have him as an ally (currently) then he would have been a _very _dangerous enemy. So Oliver was an ally... For now.

"Be quiet, pray," Amelie said coolly, her voice matching the icy feeling spreading throughout the room. "I am my own person, not under your control which ought to be shown by my turning of _you, _and you are not to tell me what to do."

"Remind me, Amelie, how you managed to find out how to turn a vampire, since this is supposed to be classified information," Oliver argued back, attempting to shoot her down in flames.

She blushed slightly and turned away before answering. "I... Does it truly matter?" she asked, to which Myrnin nodded.

"Hey... Why does _he _know and I don't?" he inquired, realising that Oliver already knew the answer.

"I accidentally relayed the information to him when he deliberately got me drunk," she replied icily, still raw about the night mere decades ago. Oliver smiled at her but she shook her head, then explained what she had done. Shrugging slightly, she said, "I tricked the youngest into telling me: I pretended to be older than I am, plied him with blood and alcohol to ensure he was blathered, and then he told me."

"You truly astound me, Amelie," Myrnin said, outraged that she could do such a thing _and not tell him_.

"However, I find that the _completely _unethical methods Oliver used to find this out were despicable," she continued, turning to look at the man in question with a cool expression on her face.

He shrugged his shoulders and grinned at her, unable to help himself. "All I did was instigate the same tactics you did, just on yourself therefore you cannot moan."

"I did it so that I could _destroy _them, fool!" she snarled, remembering back to the time when she had nobody to confer with... Until she acted and managed to find out how to make the new vampires. "Don't you see how I need to destroy them, so that the world can be a safer place rather than them dictating what we do?"

"What are your plans?" conceeded Oliver, knowing that the leader of their little group was, as always, right.

"We go and spy on the entire collective of Elders tonight," she suggested slowly, formulating in her head just how she wanted to proceed. An ever calculating mind, she knew exactly what to do in seconds. "We identify them and as they head to their respective homes over the Empire, then I, we, attack them individually. The mistake many of us have made in the past is trying to kill them all together: they will not give away information as a pack and you are more likely to die... But if you wish to find everything out, pick them off one by one," she explained, plopping a grape into her mouth as she did so. The men stared at her, agog that such a delicate flower could have such violent tendancies in her...

_Then again, Bishop __**is **__her Father... _Myrnin thought wryly, remembering his experiences with his friend's Father. He had never been a pleasant man, and Myrnin doubted he ever would be... He knew Amelie wanted rid of her Father forever, and that she would do anything to get it - but what lengths would _he _go to support her?

"You've really thought this through," Oliver said, impressed with the female's skills... Then again, this was Amelie, he reminded himself. She was a wonder, a warrior so strong he had never seen anything like it, and he knew she always got her way. Whatever she wanted, she got. That was just life for Amelie; if something took her fancy, she couldn't live in peace until she did... It was a quality Myrnin found both admirable and infuriating at the same time.

"What do you expect me to have done, Oliver?" she asked him, irritated that he thought so little of him. "Rushed into it and bludgeoned my way through it, as seems to be your motto?"

Oliver's eyebrows raised at this and his face set into a hardened line, but he declined to respond. She smiled at this tiny victory before walking over to the desk on the side of the room.

"So what do you wish to do?" Oliver asked her, pressing the issue. She rolled her eyes at him before returning to the duo of men, the tension palpable between them - they never had gotten on and they never would do; the only reason they remained within one another's company was because of the woman in their lives. Myrnin was her best friend, her longest friend, and Oliver was... Well, Oliver was complicated: who knew whether or not they could be together in a few years, but at the current moment in time they were friends... but it was rather complicated.

"We know they are meeting at Stonehenge tonight, and it is a full meeting," she reminded them. "I propose we identify the Elders who live in this country and then track those down. The next meeting of the full Elders court will be held in three months time, again at Stonehenge, and we can then choose our next targets. Does that sound acceptable to you both?" she asked them, both nodding in agreement.

"Yes," Myrnin needlessly clarified.

"Good," Amelie smiled, and when she did her face lit up hugely. She lost the wisdom she appeared to have when she was emotionless when she did, and all she had left was utter beauty and grace: her appearance took away the men's breath entirely - it was a good thing that they didn't particularly need it. "Good day, gentlemen, I believe it would be wise to sleep and restore all energy now, rather than fritter it pointlessly listening to you two arguing," she said, moving towards the far corner of the room, through which her bedchamber was situated.

"I shall return in seven hours," Oliver said pointedly, his heels clicking as he walked over the stone floor.

"If you have to," Myrnin predictably responded, picking up the notebook of notes he and Amelie had complied since his turning, two centuries ago. She had had a burning desire to destroy the Elders since she was turned by her Father - she wanted to know the secrets of her kind and if she had to live this life, she wanted to be the most powerful... It had never been her wish nor desire to be a soulless vampire - she was a good Christian and wanted to live a pure life - but that was what fate had drawn for her, so she had to make the best of it. The only way for this could be to be in control of the entire race of vampires... She had to destroy everyone, including her Father.

_A despicable being, someone who ought to have been killed when he was human, _she contemplated her Father as she removed the only recently added grips from her hair before climbing into bed. She hated him; she had hated him since she was a small child and her Mother had died - she always believed he had had a hand in her death but she could never prove anything.

She hated him. She had detested him for her entire life, and she knew the only thing she had left to do was to kill him. She couldn't live in a world that had him in it any longer than she had to: he would be the final Elder she killed; she would savour the satisfaction that she destroyed him when he had forced her into this life; she would revel in him knowing that she had truly beaten him in it...

She climbed into bed, knowing that she was going to prepare the rest of her life that night...

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_Bishop's POV:_

His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the sight before him. Stonehenge: a place of mystery and confusion - no wonder the Elders insisted on meeting there every full meeting. But why was he here, so early in comparison to the actual meeting? He had to prepare to be able to identify the Elders, the ones who were easiest geographically to his home in France to kill. He had swam the Channel - very rarely did a ship cross with the tensions between the two countries -the prior day to be here early, and he was glad he had.

He had an optimus location in the trees closest to the Stonehenge stones, but far enough away that they wouldn't know of his existence... He was safe.

He sat down and prepared to wait: he wanted to find the Elder vampires and kill them, to them their power. He wanted control of the world: he had turned his daughter, Amelie, many years ago in order for her to be his second (the only thing he trusted was _sa famille_, and she was all he had left) but she had declined him.

_It is strange, but I miss her, _he pondered to himself, continuing to seethe from when she had attacked him, in an attempt to kill him. He had hated her for a short time but he knew that he needed her - she was his Daughter and more like him than she knew... He knew that she would come after him, eventually, but she couldn't defeat him: he was stronger and would always win over her. He defeated her weak mortal self to turn her into the vampire she didn't want to become - he would always be able to defeat his offspring. But she was like him... Strong, powerful, wanting to be in control - everything he was. He knew she had a vengeful side to her, a ruthless one, but it had never emerged before: but it would have to, soon.

He had half expected to see her here, but he knew she was more about survival rather than jumping in with both feet... She would make decisions that could threaten all around her, but never herself. She had a survival instinct rooted into her so deep that it would never be rocked - she would never risk her safety.

He smiled as he remembered his daughter, before refocusing upon the stone settlement and began to wait for the vampire Elders...

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**Whatcha think?**

**I hope you liked it!**

**Please review!**

**Vicky xx**


	3. Clemence

**Chapter 3: **

**Little reviews, but I'll update just to clear my a little**

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_Amelie's POV:_

She snuck up the side of the mass of stones named Stonehenge and lay in wait of the vampire Elders. She had known of this location for many a year then, but this was the first time that she had managed to get here for the full meeting.

Myrnin and Oliver kneeled behind her, not breathing or even speaking for the fear the the Elders would be able to hear them, even half a mile away as they were. They knew that as they would be able to hear everything, anything that happened with them the more sensitive Elders _definitely _would.

"Hugo, you have arrived," an unidentified woman dressed in a black robe greeted the male coolly. He looked familiar to Amelie... She was _positive _that he lived near to her. His long brown hair adorned his shoulders and his face was pinched from a long and hard human life, the pain etched into him for eternity - or for as long as Amelie allowed him to live. She knew that she had the power, the strength, to destroy him, that he would succumb to fate that would allow _her _to be the Eldest.

"Marianne, how are you this fine evening?" he asked in a voice that suggested he didn't particularly like her. "Your journey from France was most acceptable, I presume?"

"It was, my friend; the tides were on our side and we made good time," she replied... Something about her made Amelie believe that she felt something for Hugo, but he never reciprocated it. "I trust Berkshire wasn't too much of a stretch for you to manage?"

"It never is, Marianne, no matter how many times you ask," he responded in a slightly strained tone before placing his hood over his head. "Do continue to greet our fellow Elders as they arrive... John and Elizabeth should be arriving momentarily as I saw them making their descent from Staffordshire mere minutes ago," he ordered her, and Amelie marvelled at just how easy it was for her to be finding this out. Three vampires and their locations she had found out and that was before the meeting had even begun!

Myrnin tapped her on the shoulder but she batted him away before he could speak; did he not understand that if they, with weaker senses, could hear the Elders then any movement or speech they partook in the Elders would be able to hear?

Suddenly, before their very eyes, the Elders began to convulge together... They drew into lines and moved with the rigid fluency that made every other vampire fear them. When a vampire could move with such elegance and yet still be menacing, it made them even scarier - yet Amelie was simply fascinated. She knew she could walk in such a way and when she had managed to destroy them all, she would command the fear and respect of every vampire in the world... Once she had managed to destroy her Father, she would be truly invincible.

"Welcome, Elders," a strong voice proclaimed as a statuesque female stepped in front of the Elders. She wore blood red robes, the robes which instantly identified her as being the Eldest, the robes which could be the last thing she ever wore... If she were to die.

"Eldest," the voices chorused, a harmony of sweet and delicate with gruff and low voices mixed together.

"I am pleased that we are able to meet tonight," she began, settling down in the throne chair in the centre of the circle. The others sat down on the stone circular toadstools which they brought for such occasions. "I believe that the urgent matter of Macorian is a severe threat to our livelihood. We ought to destroy him before he can solidify any more evidence to the existence of vampires," she continued, but a young male vampire stood up... Rather young _appearing_. Amelie could see in the way he stood, the way people moved out of his way, that he was probably the second Eldest vampire there...

"No," he replied, in a voice which lilted and would have relaxed people if it didn't have the menacing undertone. "Macorian is not to be disturbed. I thought we agreed, Clemence, that Scotland is _mine_; this Council does not make any decisions regarding Scotland and its inhabitants."

"_I_ am the Eldest, therefore menial decisions made before are not overruling my decision," she responded coolly, staring him right in the eyes. "Unless you wish to try and ascertain your power and overthrow me, Jonathon, I suggest you sit down and listen to me!"

"But, Clemence, that is _exactly _what I plan to do," the vampire named Jonathon smiled, a smile revealing his fangs and making him appear even more menacing than before. He lunged forwards, faster than Amelie could imagine, and threw Clemence to the floor... But she was standing once again within less than a second and growling at him, crouched in a hunting stance.

"You wish to make this mistake?" she confirmed. "After all, do you remember what happened to Laurent and Maxine...? If you wish to escape their fate, then retreat now. I shall not kill you for this," she continued, but he launched himself at her without responding. He threw her to the floor and ignored her struggles, as he knew he was stronger than her.

She had outlived her reign as the Eldest.

She may have been able to destroy Laurent and Maxine, but she could not destroy Jonathon. He had the upper hand throughout the entire fight, even before he rammed the stake through her heart.

She gasped and her eyes went dreamy before focusing on the location where Amelie lay.

_She can see me_, Amelie thought, preparing to run. But Clemence simply nodded her head and smiled in her direction, as if giving 'permission' for what she knew Amelie would do. Then she slipped off into death, Jonathon standing over her victoriously…

"My friends, I am your new leader," he proclaimed victoriously, stripping the red robes from the dead Elder as he removed his old black ones. "That means that we need to introduce a new Elder to the crowd… I believe the next in line is Phillipe, of Spain, so I shall expect Maria to bring him to the meeting in three months time. I, on the other hand, shall be disposing of Macorian myself."

"I thought you said that you weren't going to kill Macorian?" some vampire near the back of the circle said in confusion.

"I never said that; I never wanted _Clemence_ to order his death, but I never explicitly said that I would not kill him myself," he said in response.

The meeting continued, but it was not of any interest to Amelie; she knew her targets and where they lived. She would start with those three and choose different ones the meeting after she had killed them.

She had her information.

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_Bishop's POV:_

He knew his targets… he would not be overly ambitious – he would select only three vampires to kill within the three months… he would begin with the ones in France and move further afield to destroy the others that lived around him. He had a strong feeling that Amelie would be destroying the other vampires in her area, wherever she may be…

_Why does my daughter __**always**__ have to get involved in everything?_

He pondered this point as he snuck away from the meeting, returning to Dover to lie in wait for the vampire Elders. That's when it hit him:

_She's going to come after me._

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**So, the Bishop bit was short? Well… I know… but, yeah, he's **_**weird**_** to write in… prefiero Amelie!**

**Please review!**

**Vicky xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: **

_Three weeks later:_

_Amelie's POV:_

"Who are you?" the weak male vampire inquired as he lay on the floor, inches from death.

Amelie sighed, having grown weary of this entirely tedious and repetitive conversation that she had had with the other vampires, the ones she had already killed. John and Elizabeth had perished the week prior to this, but she had had to track Hugo down, in order to kill him.

"I am Amelie," she responded as she had done to the other two, not elaborating any further. "Mon ami, you have no need to know anything further, since I am sending you to your grave within the next few minutes… it would be a waste of my valuable time, you see."

"You plan to try and take over the Elders Council?" he accurately deduced from her stance, her seemingness to know everything around her. "Jesus, you don't know _anything_ do you?" he riled her with this statement, just enough for her to cock her head in inquisition.

"Very well," she said slowly, relaxing her angry stance a fraction – but not enough for him to escape or attack her. "Reveal your knowledge."

He shrugs slightly and slides around on the floor to sit upright slightly. She allows him this, especially since Myrnin and Oliver are only on the other side of the room and if Hugo tried to attack her, they would throw him off.

"You saw Jonathon at the meeting, I presume, as how else would you know I was an Elder?" he thought to himself and she nodded slightly, to show agreement with this. "Well, you saw how powerful he was. He had been hiding from Clemence this fact for many years, ever since she killed the previous Eldest and took their place. You may be strong enough to destroy us all, although that would take many a year… I presume you are French, with your accent? Your lack of denial makes it ever more obvious. My point? My point is that the amount of vampires in France probably equals over half of the population of vampires… and Bishop… he is the scariest vampire I have had the misfortune to come across – he may be young, but he is definitely powerful," finally, Hugo finished, shutting his eyes as he realised he had just told the young vampire an extremely beneficial point in aiding her to her position she desired so.

She smiled and even let out a slight laugh, which confused the elder vampire.

"Hugo, you seem to be under a _huge_ misapprehension," she informed him with the sun in her voice. It was this, and her perfect looks, that made her seem like a perfectly innocent twenty something year old… she hid the deadliness so deep that sometimes even her friends had a job remembering she was the deadliest thing – besides Bishop – that they had ever came across. "You see, Mr Bishop is my Father. We are kin, as you were to your father, Paul. So I know just how dangerous he is… I had to grow up with him. Therefore your worries and probable hopes that this is where I would meet my match are unwarranted – I know how to defeat him, what his weaknesses are," she smiled at the confused vampire who only then put things together. It finally clicked into his mind that the dangerous female before him was so dangerous because she had been forced to act in such a manner to make it through her childhood. He wondered if she was an only child (she was) and if that was because she was the only one who could survive with him as their Father; he supposed that only the firstborn would be granted the chance to be strong and the rest would be weaklings…

"You don't have to kill me… it is the Eldest _female_ that has all the powers, not the Eldest in general," he tried to save himself, resorting to begging. "_I _could be the Eldest and you could have the powers!"

"If that is the case, then why did Jonathon feel the need to kill Clemence?" she asked, smiling at the lucidity of his words. "And even _if_ it were true, why would I choose you? I could save myself the hassle of trying to kill my father and simply allow him to be the Eldest," she continued, shaking her head slightly.

"You are going to kill me now," Hugo stated in a heavy voice, no emotion inflicting the statement that his 450 year long life was going to be ending. His plea for clemency had been ignored by Amelie… she had no need for him, none whatsoever.

"Yes," she responded just as simply, seeing no need for elaborate explanations. Then she reached into her pocket and withdrew a stake before proceeding to plunge it into his heart without fuss. She simply stared at him as he slowly died; the process sped up by the silver torture she had already administered.

"Congratulations," Oliver said in a tone that could be deemed sarcastic – although it was doubted that he would be aiming for such a tone when he saw what his female companion was able to do to someone over double her age. "You are the only vampire, besides us two, in the neighbouring counties. Surely that must please you?" he asked, as the blonde turned to him. She surveyed him a long moment, the vampire side to her nature the prominent part, before she smiled and released her hair from its tight bun. She relaxed her shoulders before motioning for her friends to come closer.

"I feel we shall have to burn the house down – there are evident signs of a struggle and I cannot have the suspicion associated with the fighting going around the area, especially on the off chance that another Elder catches wind of it," she explained, already reaching for the oil lamp. The men found the alcohol and began sprinkling it around the rather disgusting house that belonged to one of the eldest Elders.

Once they were ready to leave and she had said a small prayer for both her and Hugo's souls, she dropped the oil lantern into the pool of alcohol before rushing out of the house. The other two followed her and remained in the same position the entire way back to their homes in the neighbouring town. They remained anonymous and knew exactly how to avoid the main areas of town that were still busy even at this late an hour. If they, but especially Amelie (a _woman_ who wasn't a prostitute, clearly shown by the good taste of her clothing), were caught out at this hour, they could lose their secrecy.

"We shall talk tomorrow evening, just after sunset," she ordered calmly, as Myrnin and herself lingered outside of their home to see Oliver cross the street to his own. He may have been 100m away but he could still hear her soft whisper.

"That is when we shall meet," he agreed before disappearing into the depths of his house.

"Congratulations, my Amelie, you completed your first stage," Myrnin commented as they sat down in their living room, not wanting to move.

"I just wonder who will be moving to take their place in the Council," she murmured, her brain tiring faster than she thought possible as she tried to process this. But she soon relaxed and allowed herself a little time to rejoice in her actions. She had the next five months or so to relax and possibly find other vampires. It made a nice change, not to be worrying.

Yet somewhere deep down, she knew that she had to find a plan to fight her father. Hugo had reminded her how ruthless, vicious, relentless, he was in a fight and she had to destroy him. It was him… or it was her.

_Bishop's POV:_

He wiped the blood from his face as he surveyed the remnants of the third vampire he had killed in that week following the Elders meeting. He was glad that he had observed the other vampires who lived close to his home in Calais, so he didn't feel as if he was simply resting for the remaining five months or so – the final month would, as before, have to be the secret journeying to England and then concealment of himself. He was proud of his hiding skills and his hunting skills – he had found the vampires he desired near enough instantly.

He had a strong feeling that Amelie would be dealing with the English vampires, so he needn't worry about them. _Why on __**earth **__she moved to England when she is French, I will never understand, _he thought, as he thought of his daughter. He loved her, he supposed, but not in a conventional way. She was all he had left now, but he didn't feel that his feelings would put him at a disadvantage if they came to fight – she wasn't _that_ important to him.

He left the room as silently as he had entered, slightly grieved that he had not managed to prise any information from the young man's lips before he had perished… it was a shame, but not a hindrance – he hoped that some of the other vampires he knew lived in either France or the north of Spain or Italy would lead to more information. He needed as much information as possible, if he were to take on the biggest and most feared vampires in the world – including Jonathon. Oh, that would be a huge fight… he only hoped he won it.

**Please review… it's not hard. Otherwise, no story**

**Vicky xx**


	5. Greetings

**Chapter 5:**

**Sorry, for you people who read this story, for the long update...**

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_Bishop's POV:_

He searched for many days for a vampire named Xavier, but this vampire seemed to have disappeared. Finally, close to the time when he would have to make the voyage to England for another Elders meeting, he gave up which left him in a foul mood. Bishop _never_ gave up: it was as if he was admitting a sin or something similar by denying himself the right to fulfil everything he said he would.

He relaxed in his castle for a day or two and considered the list of vampires he had killed. Surely the fifteen he had managed to destroy – unfortunately, no information had been rendered from any of them – had to be more than the pitiful amount his daughter had managed to kill. She was weak – he knew it and had always known it. There was absolutely no way that she would be able to destroy every single vampire above her – including her Father, him. She was nowhere near powerful enough: the compassion shown to her by her Mother made that fact a definite…

The last one he would go for was his old acquaintance, Jonathon. Well, they _had_ been more than acquaintances – they had been friends – until Jonathon got greedy and wanted his lands… that wasn't something that Bishop was willing to allow to happen, so he pushed away Jonathon back to his homeland of Scotland. He knew that he had a weak chance against Jonathon but perhaps now that he was the Eldest he would (Jonathon that is) be under pressure from the other Elders and then be wiped out that way…

_Amelie's POV:_

She knew that she had a battle on her hands. She knew that someday, sometime, she would _have_ to fight her Father. Thankfully, she knew many of his weaknesses and was a strong fighter, but he was even stronger and he knew even more of her weaknesses, since he 'brought her up' in all technicalities. This would be the biggest fight of her life, but as Hugo said before over half the vampires lived in France. She could simply allow her Father to exterminate them all before killing him herself then – of course, she would allow him to kill Jonathon first. Something about him made her shudder just thinking about him; she was sure she had recognised him or something.

"Amelie, are you ready?" Myrnin knocked at her door, and she turned her attention from her state of thought tracking to finishing buttoning up the simple grey dress she wore that day. "I have some news," he continued, and she queried this in her mind: what news could be so important?

"Yes, I am," she responded, opening the door to him in a fluid movement which she continued on to the mirror to begin to tie her hair back. As she proceeded to tie her hair back into a tight bun, she spoke, "What could be so important that you cannot wait for me to head downstairs?"

"The meeting has been called forwards three months," he informed her quietly, knowing how she would take the news. She turned to him with a look of exasperation, despair and confusion, as he suspected she would do.

"_Why_ is that?" Amelie questioned him, shock making her tone more high pitched. Yet she didn't sound more childlike: she simply heightened the danger which lurked underneath her skin, the danger which was almost imperceptible in her delicate body. She took a step towards her longest friend and he held his hands up in surrender, knowing that he had _no_ hope against this vampire.

"There has been suspicion regarding the deaths of so many Elder vampires in such a short period of time," he responded, taking a step back slowly, deliberately, from her.

Her brow furrowed over, wondering how on earth _two_ deaths could be deemed as too many. Then it clicked. "By any chance, do you know if the majority of the deaths are occurring in France?" she asked him, knowing that if this is the case, her Father was behind the deaths.

"Yes, how did you know that?" Myrnin responded, his own brow creased in wondering how his friend could be so omnipotent.

"It isn't omnipotence, Myrnin, simply simple deduction," she sighed, rolling her eyes delicately at her friend's density. "My Father remains in France. As you know, he wants the power of the Eldest without the Elder Council beneath him, as do I. Therefore, if the majority of the deaths are occurring in France, he is behind them. He does not have the logical skills necessary to understand that killing so many in a huge burst will draw attention to the deaths…" she trailed off, considering her own tactics.

"Like in chess?" Myrnin asked and she nodded, smiling widely.

"Yes, _exactly_ like in chess: if you want to win, you do not make your moves boldly, obviously – you make them stealthily and slipped in between other rather more idiotic and rash movements, so you always have a back up and a smoke screen, if you will," she rambled on, explaining how she operates. "As you can probably tell, I could always defeat him at chess, even as a small child," she smiled at the memory of being able to beat him in such a menial thing, before the smile slips away as she remembered the after effects of such a victory. When she was a small child, she usually wasn't punished and occasionally he showed her affection, but as she aged and he turned more power hungry, she no longer ranked such behaviour…

"I always lose at chess," Myrnin said wanly, and she laughed slightly once again.

"That is because you make your moves too pronounced, too obvious, from the beginning!" she tried to explain just how he always lost at fighting with Oliver, as well as chess. "You need to use your, ahem, _boldness_ in a way which becomes a distraction for your opponent… for instance, you make such a show of making rather rash decisions which work out better for your opponent, in chess for example. _Then,_ they aren't expecting you to make a good decision when you are so bold and forceful, when in _fact_ you are stealthily making ground and tricking your opponent into holes which they cannot dig themselves out of," she motioned with her hands what she meant, and her friend smiled at the assistance she had given him.

"I shall have to test those methods out," he replied and she smiled at him but shook her head.

"Another time, Myrnin – we have much work to be doing, in preparation for next month," she told him as she walked out of her room. "Myrnin, _why_ are you loitering in my room?" she called behind herself as she walked slowly down the hall.

In her room, Myrnin looked away from her clothing and quashed the thoughts about what lay underneath them all…

* * *

_At the meeting of the Elders…_

"_Will you two be quiet?"_ Amelie hissed at the pair of squabbling male vampires which stood behind her. "We are _trying_ to gain intelligence upon our enemy so that we can control our own fates. Or would you rather we all got caught and killed?" she continued, glaring at the pair of them with crimson eyes. They both turned abashed and looked away, before Myrnin muttered:

"You're the one talking now!"

She turned back to him and growled deeply, the guttural sound seeming so quaint coming from such a delicate and beautiful woman.

From here, they advanced along the line of the woods, deciding that if the Elders were on guard; their past hiding place would be too noticeable. So they slunk into the woods and came across a figure, cloaked in black, lying in wait.

_Surely it cannot be_? She thought to herself as the face came into the light… _he cannot be here. He __**cannot**__!_

"Hello, Amelie, my dearest daughter," Bishop smiled, showing fang as he did so. "What a _pleasant _surprise to see you here."

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**So whatcha think?**

**Review**

**Vicky xx**


	6. Invitations

**Chapter 6:**

**Thank you to spritesinger, who reviewed the last chapter. Anyone who reads HP fics, check this girl out!**

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_Amelie's POV:_

No, he _can't_ be here, she thought as she looked her Father in the eye. But, evidently, he was and she needed to focus on that. She couldn't risk focusing on the meeting; for fear that he would try and kill her because he had to know that she was going to come after him in the future, for fear that this could be her last minute on this earth. She knew just how ruthless her father was – she had seen it in action; she had _learned_ this ruthlessness from him! But that didn't mean that she didn't see he was wrong – all she saw was a man who needed to be destroyed.

"Is that_ any_ way to greet your Father – without a single word?" Bishop said with a sly smile, being entirely ridiculous. "I didn't raise you to be so rude, Amelie," he continued, which finally invoked a reaction in her.

"_You_ didn't raise me," she snapped, taking a step towards him in anger. Her fangs fell down as she contemplated fighting him there – but no, that would be silly. The Elders would hear and even if she won she would be destroyed for being present at their meeting. So a fight was out of the question. "All you did was try to make me a puppet version of yourself to work for you. My _Mother_ raised me," she continued, her voice strong and unwavering as she stared at him in the face.

Bishop chuckled and it was a feral sound – not amused whatsoever. Myrnin and Oliver automatically took a step back from the feuding family members, knowing that if it boiled down to a fight, their friend would most likely lose – right now, at least. "Child, it is evident why you are here and I propose that we work _together_ to destroy them. You can be my second and we can rule together, as the Bishop clan were supposed to do," he suggested, and she seemed to consider it – it would be easier for her to destroy him if he trusted her, at least slightly. And she could use the assistance in destroying every vampire older than herself.

"We may as well," she shrugged, seeming rather blasé about agreeing to work _with_ her father, the man she hated. Oliver began to protest until Myrnin stood on his foot meaningfully, something he had always wanted to be able to do but never was allowed to by Amelie. Yet he had managed to save her in this situation – so she shouldn't care, right?

"I never thought you would actually agree to work with me; I was under the impression you hated me," Bishop said, revealing his shock as he stared at his daughter with a calculating expression. She didn't smile back but something about her expression showed innocence (something which Myrnin was convinced was fake) as she tried to make her Father believe that she wasn't going to kill him.

"Isn't it easier to work with someone if you are aiming for the same common end goal, rather than _against_ them?" she asked rhetorically, walking around slowly. Her right hand grazed the tree's branches lightly and she plucked one of the leaves off in the same airy manner, proceeding to turn it into confetti – the only indication to her friends that she was tense. Amelie _never_ fiddled with things… "After all, I do not have the inclination to be running around all over Europe after vampires. You have no inclination to come to England more than absolutely necessary, so we are in a win-win situation. You take care of all the vampires across the channel – barring Jonathon – and I shall _ensure_ that there is not one vampire who could be debatably older than myself on the British Isles. Is this a fair agreement?" she summarised what would happen, smiling internally at how _easily_ he had fallen for her. All she had to do was look innocent and men were putty in her hands – apparently, even her Father could fall for her charms. He didn't know how truly ruthless she was, how she had stood by and watched as a fire ravaged an entire town and killed everyone besides one small child. He didn't know how she had turned her back on that child and walked away as it screamed for help… he had no idea.

"And you will not try and double cross me?" Bishop confirmed slowly, seeming unable to believe that Amelie was able to destroy these much older vampires. "I assume that these two have fighting experience, and that they destroy them as well?" he motioned to the men who stood behind Amelie where she had stopped with the leaf, the chlorophyll from the life source of the tree staining her hand, albeit very slightly.

"Oh yes," she had said to him, furthering the idea that she was all lightness and innocence, unable to destroy a vampire older than her. She smiled this time, realising that she was actually telling the truth, just leaving out the fact that she didn't need them whatsoever – yet, at least. "Both destroyed two vampire Elders merely the other month… they are strong and able to fight for me, for us. Honestly, Father, did you _really_ believe I had paid attention in those lessons you _attempted_ to give me on fighting?" she lied simply, making it appear that she was simply one of those spoilt princesses who had everything handed to her on a plate.

"No, I didn't, but I had assumed when I saw you here," he said slowly. Then he extended his hand out to her. "And you will make an oath to me, that you will not cross me?" he asked, and she hesitated.

Finally, she responded, an icy smile on her face. "You know I have never sworn an oath to you and I am not planning on changing that status now; you shall have to trust me, father. I believe that that is not _too_ much of an issue, especially for your kin?" she made it sound as if she would _never_ do _anything_ against him – even though she knew it was entire lies, and he probably did to.

He stared at her for a long moment, trying to identify something that would mean she was lying in her face. But there was nothing but sincerity there, so he finally nodded. "Very well, I shall take your word, Amelie. I do have rather a lot to do, since I am taking on the rest of Europe, but I shall meet with you at the next meeting, to see how you and your _friends_ are progressing," he sneered as he spoke about her friends who stood just behind her.

"Yes, father, we shall," Amelie agreed, knowing that this was the outcome she had wanted – her father believing that she was entirely on his side, that power was enough from second eldest. "I believe it could be beneficial to actually find out what this meeting is about, now, so I propose we actually do what we all came to do and watch," she said, unable to continue the niceties with her father for much longer.

He agreed, so they all sat down on the floor and watched the proceedings unfolding in front of them… but Amelie could barely manage to stop herself attacking her father…

_Just a few months more, and he will be dead_, she promised herself, a sense of satisfaction making her feel so much better about being within 10m of her father…

"Fellow Elders, we have called this emergency meeting in order to find out what has been happening about our loss of fellow Elders," Jonathon said with a worried expression, his arms spread wide as he addressed his council.

"Where have they been disappearing?" one of the Elders called, evidently worried about what was happening.

"The majority of them have gone from France, but two of the English vampires have also been killed," Jonathon replied gravely, worry evident in his voice.

_Idiot_! Amelie thought about her father as she realised her plan of killing surreptitiously had gone out of the water with his mass killing.

"So what do we do?" another Elder asked, as if he wanted a fight. There was something about him that scared Amelie, and made her glad that her father would be destroying him – he was Italian.

"We need to simply ensure we are on our guard - we have no idea who these assailants are," Jonathon says with a heavy sigh, looking around the vampires congregated there.

"But we have lost many vampires; we must replenish these vampires we have lost; we must invite more vampires into our circle," he said, grinning slightly at the prospect of new blood in the group, people who could be more agreeable with him.

"Who is now on the top of the list?" someone asked once they had named the next 12 Elders to be joining them.

Jonathon sighed when he saw the next name, the next person who would be joining their ranks. "Bishop," he sighed. "And directly after that, Amelie, his daughter," he continued, evidently worried about the fact that there would be two of the Bishop bloodline in the Elders.

Amelie turned to look at her friends and realised that soon she would officially be at this meeting.

She couldn't wait!

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**So, whatcha think?**

**Review please!**

**Vicky xx**


	7. Frustration

**Chapter 7:**

**For spritesinger, the only person to review last chapter. Hope you enjoy prom! (or enjoyed it if you are reading this after the amazing time we shall all have together!)**

**I don't own anything…**

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_Amelie's POV:_

"Dear God, _please_ tell me that you have not pledged to work with your Father, Amelie," Myrnin sighed as they began their journey to their current home in the nearby area to the Stonehenge meeting area of the vampire Elders. But Amelie wasn't paying attention: she was still entirely caught up on the fact that _she_ was the new 'recruit', in a sense, to the vampire Elders. Be it along with her Father or not, she was certainly closer to her dream goal as the eldest vampire in the world.

Finally, she responded. "Did I swear an oath?" she questioned her friend, sounding as if she thought he was entirely stupid. "No, I did not… therefore; I have not pledged _anything_, dear Myrnin. We are simply working as _allies_, though my opinion of the partnership between the pair of us is not the most savoury and I shall have no qualms in destroying it as easily as I formed it."

Oliver shook his head, actually daring to challenge the daughter of the mad man who had been on a killing spree around Europe. "Amelie, you _really_ think that you have a chance against that man?" he asked her in disbelief, causing her to stop and snarl at him.

"I suppose that you have forgotten that he thinks I am a sweet and innocent woman who has _you_ two killing everyone," she snapped at him, giving a snapshot display of the innocence she was playing on. "Therefore, I find that it is _you_ two in danger of being killed by him for he shall believe that you are the power behind the killings; I am just the brains, he believes. And to look at you two, I would agree with him," she continued, showing her entire lack of concern for her friends, showing how she would even abandon those two if it allowed her more chance for power.

The men gulped as they realised just _how_ power hungry their friend was, just how far she would go to get the power that she wanted. But then they nodded, for the first time in tandem with one another, and knew that they would support Amelie no matter what happened. With the choice being Amelie or Bishop, they would _much_ rather have Amelie their side than against.

"Sorry," Myrnin muttered, deciding it was better to apologise and clear the air in opposition to keeping her angry. "But… you have to recognise that he is going to back track on his word as well," he continued blindly, causing Oliver to heave a sigh of annoyance that he would sort everything out and then go and knock down the peace walls once again.

Amelie sighed and began to walk once again, contemplating her response as she did. "I know that he will come against me and want to fight with me, simply because he knows that I desire power. However, he thinks that I am working with him and I shall use that to my advantage. I can assure you, gentlemen, that whilst he apprehends that I _am_ working with him, I shall be fighting every single moment to bring him down," she said furiously, striding faster and faster as she tried to vent some of her frustration.

Myrnin and Oliver exchanged nods, entirely civil for a change, and knew that she meant every word she said. So they scurried after her and all headed home, wondering where their next target would be found…

_One month later…_

As of yet, they were yet to find another target: the last meeting hadn't held many opportunities for Amelie to identify which of the Elders lived in the British Isles, so she decided not to go out seeking vampires who may be so much younger than her dear self. However, as more time passed, she grew more and more impatient, unable to stop pacing for hours on end. She was frustrated and had no energy outlet for the desire she had to go out and kill more Elders, to move herself further up the list towards being the Eldest.

"Amelie, there is a vampire at the door looking for _you_ and only you," Myrnin's dry voice called through the house, evidence to show how upset he was that he was being entirely ignored by the visitor.

Her intrigue sparked, she flew down the stairs to be greeted with one of the vampire Elders she knew by sight from the meetings she had already eavesdropped on. "Who, may I ask, are you?" she asked suspiciously, playing her roll to the max: she had to pretend that she had never had never laid eyes on this enigmatic man standing before her in the entrance to her home.

"I, dearest Amelie, am Theo, one of the Elders on the Vampire Council of Elders," he announced pompously. "You have reached the stage, at your age, where you have been invited to join in one of the places recently vacated by slain vampires; therefore, we would like to extend an invitation to join us."

She smiled at this formal invitation, the one she had been waiting for, and nodded whilst curtseying to her elders, as she had been taught. "Yes, I would much like to join the Elder Council," she agreed with a touch of pride to her voice. She had been waiting for this moment for almost a century now and she was going to relish the chance to get so much extra information in regards to her fellow Elders.

Theo nodded and handed her a black robe, identical to the ones she had seen the other Elders – barring the Eldest – wearing at the meetings. "You are to wear this to the meeting, which shall be held in three months time, on the eve of the Full Moon, at Stonehenge. It is not too far from here; have you been before?" he inquired, causing Amelie's suspicion levels to dramatically increase. _Perhaps he saw me before; perhaps he knows I have spied on them_.

But, as usual, she played up her role to perfection, levelling him off with a steady gaze. "Stonehenge? I have heard of it, yes, but being French I have yet to allocate myself time to see the apparent wonders of this country," she smiled slightly but it never reached her eyes, she wondering how far away he lived for how quickly she could get rid of him. She disliked him already, she decided rashly, but she knew he had to die anyway.

"Very well, I shall see you there – and you are _not_ to bring this fool or the other one who lives across the street," Theo snapped at her.

"I understand. Have a safe journey home," she felt almost ironic in saying it because it would be humans who needed the well wishing, _not_ vampires. But she shut the door and waited till she could no longer hear him before smiling at Myrnin and physically hugging him. "I am within the walls of the organisation, Myrnin, and I shall soon have it under _my_ control!"

And with that, she laughed slightly and knew that she had two months to rest in preparation for heavy slaughtering following the next meeting…

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**So, whatcha think?**

**Review, please!**

**Vicky xx**


	8. Welcoming

**Chapter 8:**

**Thanks, once again, to spritesinger. Hazel, this story is now entirely for you since all other readers do not bother to review.**

**I don't own anything**

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_Amelie's POV – the night of the meeting_:

She walked down the grassy hills towards the area called Stonehenge, her body tingling with the excitement that she had done it. She had made it to the _Elder's Council_; she had made it to being within the eldest fifty vampires in the entire _world_ – that had to count for something. It meant that she was that much closer to being the eldest, to having the powers she could only dream of.

Just by _being_ an Elder, she would learn so much. She would get a chance to be able to read the books of the Elders, to find out their knowledge, to find out what powers she already had but had never harnessed.

She would learn how to make new vampires.

Of course, she already _had_ that knowledge, but she wanted to know if there was a way to do it that was easier and didn't cost her so much energy to do it: Myrnin and Oliver had almost killed her to turn, since she had to lose so much blood for it.

Her feet glided along the ground, her arms shaking back the robes as she managed to look graceful even in black. The contrast with her blonde hair was startling to the point of captivating every single Elder already present and looking her way, male and female. She was so stunning, nobody could look away.

She charmed them all.

As she approached, they managed to look away and divert their attention to their small groups in which they were anxiously discussing the way that so many of their vampires had been slain. They didn't understand how, she heard, since how did the attackers – for there _had_ to be more than one – know who was an Elder and who was not? There had not been reports of normal vampires being slain but nobody had been near this meeting place – they would have known, would they not, if they had been spied on?

"Hello, my daughter," the sudden arrival of her Father caused her to jump slightly, for she had not realised he had even _arrived_, let alone was next to her. "Now, that isn't behaviour that suggests you would like to survive longer than the unfortunate souls who have died for us to be present here," he continued, his eyes dark and hinting something to her as she looked at him.

"I didn't realise that I would have to watch my back when I was present at this meeting, Father," she said coolly, levelling him off with a glare that would have had Myrnin or Oliver running miles. Yet this was her Father, the one who was stronger and more deceitful than even she was, someone who wouldn't be scared off by a glare even from someone who professed to be sweetness and light.

"You should _always_ be careful," he warned her, a glimmer of something dangerous in his tone.

"Last time I remember taking advice you offered, Father, was halfway through my human life, before you murdered my mother," she spat back at him, trying with all her might to return to the pleasant girl he thought she still was. "In over three hundred years, I have not spoken to you, so what do you think gives you the _right_ to assume that you can tell me what to do?" she continued, barely able to take a step back and stop the seething anger overcoming her.

He raised his eyebrows at her but nodded deeply, stepping back also. "I quite understand," he said slowly, something in his eyes saying differently. "Yet let us not burden the others with out familirial disputes; we have time enough to discuss this in the future, no?" he continued, smiling slightly as she nodded in agreement.

"Why yes, I suppose we do," she agreed verbally, a small smile on her face as she realised he had not realised anything was the matter, that he still thought she was the innocent child he had once had. "Now, I believe the meeting is about to start," she whispered, turning towards the raised area of land where the dear Jonathon was striding towards.

All she could imagine as she saw the body clad in blood red robes was seeing his body lying on the floor in a separate location to his head, the robes matching the blood seeping from the wound. All she could imagine was being able to claim his stance at the top of the mound and being able to disband the entire circle below her… but the only difference in her situation would be that it would be her _father_ who was lying on the floor, with her claiming the power from him.

"My fellow Elders, welcome to our meeting," Jonathon said, his tone causing a certain level of contempt to rise in Amelie. "We must welcome, once again, new Elders to our ranks, in the names of Mr Bishop and Miss Amelie, who prefers to distinguish herself from her kin standing to her side. Do you have any words of wisdom you wish to share with us as you stand _with_ us for the first time?"

She smiled slightly and was about to speak when Bishop stepped forwards in a method to draw attention to himself.

"I have been waiting many a year now to be able to join your ranks," he said, having prepared something which is more than Amelie has done. "I have wanted to be able to find out the secrets of our kind for a great while now and to have the privilege of standing before you now as one of you is more than I can put into words."

The group of vampires clapped politely as then Jonathon motioned to Amelie to speak. She hesitated for a moment before finding a possible route down which to take in regards to speaking. "Much like my father, I have wanted to be able to learn the enchanting knowledge that only the Elders have for quite some time. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that the Elders had been depleted enough for _me_ to be able to join. I cannot say how humbled I am to be able to learn from you knowledge that otherwise would have been so far from my reach I would never have found it," she bowed her head slightly, using her wilful ways as a woman with her beauty to be able to get the vampires to _relate_ to her, to see that she is not a threat whatsoever.

Whilst they must have had their niggles about the fact that she is there, they thought that she is just a sweet young woman who had been turned unwillingly, frozen forever in a state of perfection.

Jonathon seemed to be quite happy with these answers so clapped his hands together in a method to bring focus back to him. "Now, thank you for your words as you have been welcomed to the circle."

He paused dramatically, a smile on his face.

"Now, you must learn the way of the Elders."

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**Thoughts?**

**Review please!**

**Vicky xx**


	9. Reading

**Chapter 9:**

**For Hazel, may you do brilliantly in your GCSEs… unlike me!**

**I don't own anything**

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_Amelie's POV:_

She stepped forwards towards the small mound, under which was the books she desired, the ones that contained the information about their kind that was classified – to all but the Elders. Now, she could read it.

Jonathon stepped down from his position of power, making a signal to a vampire, whose name Amelie was not familiar with, for her to continue the meeting. _I suppose she's the second Eldest_, Amelie theorised, a small smile on her lips as both she and Bishop were ordered to step forwards.

"I understand you are both French, no?" Jonathon confirmed, not waiting for an answer – In Bishop's case, at least, there was a strong French accent. "And, by extension, you both reside in France?"

Whilst Bishop nodded, Amelie shook her head delicately, allowing her blonde locks to move also. "No, I have resided in England since shortly after becoming a vampire," she stated, her voice tinkling in comparison to the rougher voices of her fellow Elders. She was the most beautiful; she was sure, the one who already had females desiring to _be_ her, to have the beauty she inherited from her Mother.

And the men desired her.

Perhaps to lure them to their deaths would be a good idea, if her other methods failed.

Jonathon shrugged, as if this information was inconsequential to him, before lifting up a leather bound book. It reminded Amelie of the three hours study per day her father had insisted upon, citing the fact that his daughter would not be illiterate as the reason. therefore, Amelie had learned French, Latin and English fluently, with a dashing of German. She learnt all about the Geography of the world as it was 300 years prior, and the history of then also. Only after she left, did she realise he had been training her to work with him.

Unfortunately, his teachings resulted in her having a mind of her own, her own desires – and Amelie would _never_ be his second in command.

Ever.

"This book contains the more… _basic_ of the secrets which we possess in our knowledge alone," Jonathon said slowly, handing the book out to Bishop rather than Amelie. "Whilst you _will_, in time, grow to learn all of what we others know, you must begin with the basic facts, so to speak. This meeting today shall hold no bearing for you, unless you are aware of the contents of this book, therefore I deem it a wise idea for the pair of you to read through the book in the far corner. Then next meeting, you shall be knowledgeable enough to participate."

"Do we get to take some other reading material home with us, for us to become familiar with in the intervening months between the meetings?" Amelie requested, already hating this man more than before for forcing her to spend the entire night with her Father. It would be hard to ensure that she didn't slip from her innocent approach, didn't let the blood thirsty beast _he_ had made show before it was ready.

Jonathon surveyed her face for a moment before nodding. "Since you requested so… _politely_, I believe that you are capable of taking the necessary precautions with our books. You reside in England, therefore you need not bring the books into contact with water," he agreed, causing Amelie to smile. "However, if I am to hear that there is the scent of your little friends upon the books, I shall _personally_ kill you myself. Not until they reach the Elders circle will they be able to handle the books. Is this agreed?"

"Neither Myrnin nor Oliver shall even lay _eyes_ on anything I am given," she confirmed, sincerity ringing through every word.

"Good," Jonathon looked away from her suddenly, reaching into the box to retrieve four huge volumes. "Read these. And your Father can read them at the next meeting, for I _refuse_ to allow them to leave this country. Is this understood?"

Though Bishop glowered, he could do nought but agree, for he had to live in France to complete the murdering of the Elders there. How could he complete that mission if he had to swim back and forth over the channel to read the books?

"Yes, I agree," he said, for Jonathon was waiting for a response before he left.

"That is settled then; read this book now, as instructed, and I shall inform you when the next meeting is," Jonathon said, his eyes on the group of others on the far side of Stonehenge. "I must go. Welcome to the Elder's Council."

He left, leaving Amelie with her Father. The tension rises instantly, as she realises she is expected to spend the next goodness knows how many hours with only him, reading through the book they have been given.

"I suppose we may as well be getting started," her Father commented, sitting down on the floor with the book and expecting her to join him. She did, gritting her teeth as she did so and all the while wishing she could be _anywhere _but here, with him.

So they began to read the book, learning things they already knew but ought not to, if Jonathon's words were true.

They were there.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

_Vicky xx_


	10. Plans

**Chapter 10:**

**For Hazel!**

* * *

She kept true to her word, Amelie did, when she promised that she would not allow Myrnin or Oliver to even see the books. No, when she took them home as the meeting ended, she ensured that they were both out before slipping into her library and sliding the books onto the shelf.

Then she went to bed as if nothing had happened.

The next morning, she found herself being awoken at the earliest even she had been roused from sleep by Myrnin. He was incessantly banging at the door and she had an inkling that if she did not answer soon, he would be bounding into her room in order to wake her to reveal what she learnt last night. Before she had left – _long_ before she left – she had seen the pair of vampires she spent her entire vampiric life with (after creating them, of course) arguing to such an extent that they managed to agree that they should take the argument elsewhere for fear of discovery.

"Yes, Myrnin?" she answered in her most crabbit of voices, her eyes snapping open as she spoke. As soon as these words were uttered, the knocking ceased and she heard the leaning of Myrnin's body onto the thick, wooden door.

"I, and Oliver, simply desire to know what occurred last night," he spoke in a carefully neutral voice, barely able to contain the excitement which lingered simply upon the edge.

She smiled slightly and got up out of bed, moving to ensure the curtains were safely secured shut. "I shall be out shortly, Myrnin, to inform you of everything I learnt," she answered, her tone carefully nonchalant as to ensure he did not feel the pressing need to enter her bedroom without her permission.

"Fine," he responded, a slightly sulky undertone running through the simple one word sentence that made Amelie roll her eyes. _He is such a child_, she thought wryly before dressing rapidly.

_~X~_

Within fifteen minutes, she was dressed and seated in her office, the room adjacent to the library containing the secret books. Both Oliver and Myrnin were sat before her, waiting for the explanation of what they _could_ have heard, if they had not deigned to spend the entire time they were present arguing about the most menial of things.

"So…?" Oliver began, growing impatient as Amelie continued to stare at a small patch of mud upon the floor without speaking. Slowly, her focused grey eyes rose from the floor and locked with his, a spark running through the air that was tangible even to Myrnin. Yet she ignored this, as did Myrnin who also pouted, and then began to think through what she was going to say – which took a further minute or so.

"I learnt a deal about the structure, as well as various other information in regards to the vampires who are within the Council," she said, her voice distant as she continued to run through everything.

"We heard something about books," Myrnin butted in, finding himself unable to stop the words streaming from his mouth. "_Definitely_ something about books…as in you and Bishop."

"_Must_ you listen to what suits you?" Amelie focused on him, her tone angry and annoyed, a sharpness ringing through with extraordinary clarity. "I was about to come to that, yet you simply destroyed the progression by which I would have explained it. Therefore, I have a selection of books, _that you cannot set eyes on_!" she decided to play a small trick upon the more than slightly annoying companion she had, to see how far he would believe her.

She glanced at Oliver to see him smirking; he had worked through the idea that she was simply playing with Myrnin and would have a plan to ensure she did not break her sincere promise. However, Myrnin wasn't _quite_ as perceptive.

"Are you trying to inform me, Amelie, that you do not desire the pair of us with you any longer?" he sniffed, failing to hide the hurt tone to his voice. "If that is the case, I shall pack up and leave this instant!" melodramatic to the last syllable, he stood up and began to flounce out of the room, until Amelie called him back with a dry and lazy, "Myrnin."

He turned back to see her frowning slightly and motioning for him to take a seat once again.

"I said you cannot _see_, Myrnin, not that you could not know the content – I was very careful to ensure that I did not specify you would not learn a single detail from the books," she said, her tone slightly more patient to ensure that he fully comprehended. "Does that make sense to you?" she continued when he continued to be silent, his face furrowed into an expression she always named "his thinking face".

"Yes…" he murmured the simple word and looked back up at her, his face creasing into a smile. "Do continue, dear Amelie, for I am more than slightly interested in what you have to say."

She rolled her eyes at the blatant flattery, yet smiled in spite of herself, before standing up. "The pair of you _must_ remain here," she ordered them, her tone steely as her eyes flashed to show she meant every word.

"Yes, Amelie," they muttered in unison, watching her innocently as she walked backwards out of the office and into the library.

And then, she began to relay the contents of the books

_~X~_

_Bishop's POV:_

Anger did not even begin to cover the emotions he was feeling. There was a difference between working with his daughter and then learning the facts she would have known for many a month _after_ someone so much younger and less able than him. after all, it was _him_ whose actions ensured that they were invited to the meeting much earlier than they would have been if she had continued at her snail's pace of murdering three Elders in the time period between meetings!

He paced furiously along his office, throwing anything that came into reach at the stone wall, so hard that he was creating a dint in it. If he applied any pressure from his hand, he knew he could destroy it – but then where would he be? He would have an office rendered unusable for the sunlight that would stream in would be harmful to his delicate skin.

_I shall kill __**double**__ the amount she kills_, he made this decision randomly, plucking it out of the hundreds of theories and possibilities in his brain, of which included actually killing his own daughter. After all, he knew that once their deal ran sour for her, she would once again be aiming to kill him. So why could he not remove her from the equation.

Yet he needed her to store the knowledge, to make the rather more cunning plans; he could still remember that she would beat him in every game of chess they played. As a small child, he found her simply endearing; perhaps this was proof that females _did_ have brains at such a small age. However, as her skill began to increase as she aged, he grew more and more stressed that he could be beaten – and in fewer moves each time – by his daughter, something which evidently meant she was perhaps even more cunning than he was.

No, he needed her alive, to both remove English vampires – perhaps having herself killed in the process - and for her to instate herself in the positions of power, second only to him.

Then he would see what she was capable of. Only then, would he.

And he relished the opportunity.

* * *

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**Vicky xx**


	11. Plotting

**Chapter 11:**

**For you, Hazel, as always :)**

* * *

_Amelie's POV:_

She couldn't help herself, as she read the books to her friends, from keeping _some_ information back from them. After all, she qualified this with the realisation that they would one day perhaps desire her position – and if she told them everything they needed to know, even if she destroyed the books, they would be able to survive without her.

As always, her own survival took precedent over the loyalty she had towards her friends; it _had_ to. There was no way around the fact that they could rise against her, that they could desire her position more than the value they had on her friendship with them, and she therefore had to act accordingly to ensure that she could never be destroyed.

So she read the books slowly, reading ahead even as she spoke to see what she ought to leave out for them, there not being vast amounts left out, yet the most important, illusively secret information pertaining to their kind staying firmly within Amelie's head only. After all, she couldn't take chances; this was her life that she would be playing with.

~x~

They finished the books within a week and all the other two could do was sit there, stunned that that was merely a small proportion of the knowledge Amelie was permitted to learn and that they could become aware of so much more.

"Well…what do we do now?" Myrnin asked slowly as Amelie emerged from her library, locking the door behind her. Whilst they felt that they were aware of everything, Amelie was certain that, if given the chance, Myrnin would have been in there with the books within one second.

"We find the rest of the Elders around here," she replied slowly. "We find them and begin to destroy them slowly, moving through the ones around us in a manner that makes it appear as though someone from across the country is destroying them – _not_ us."

She took a step forwards and sighed ever so slightly, her eyes bright with the idea of power. She had plans for what she wanted to do, of course she did, and there was the glint in her eyes that had both Myrnin and Oliver intrigued and worried for what she wanted them to do.

"And then," she paused for a dramatic impact, "then we plan our attack upon my Father."

~x~

The weeks passed and they began to worry because there were no vampires in the surrounding area _whatsoever_, all of them having been destroyed when they moved there. Amelie had long contemplated moving their base, yet she couldn't for fear of the suspicion raised when the murders of Elders seemed to move in a correlated area towards where _she_ lived.

Perhaps she was reading too far into it, yet she knew that there was no way that it could go unnoticed that a new Elder had just so happened to move into an area where her fellow Elders were suddenly being killed.

"What do we _do_?" Myrnin, naturally, was the one to overreact in the situation, throwing himself into a chair with enough momentum to have thrown himself out of the window if he had desired to.

Amelie rolled her eyes as she sat down at her own side of the desk, pressing her fingertips to her temples. "We do nothing, Myrnin," she sighed, allowing a large volume of air to escape her unneeded lungs. "We simply remain here and plan what we must do in a shorter period of time because I have no desire for this charade to continue for more than two years, therefore we must be precise in our movements."

"You mean we are to simply _plan_ for the next three weeks?" he repeated, aghast at the lack of action. "I shall return to my science for this time, Amelie, whilst _you_ plan what you desire to do, for this has no impact upon me," for the first time, there is an almost rift between the pair as he opposed her plan for the…planning of the destruction of the Elders.

She had no desire to fight to keep him onside; she had no need for him until after the next Elders meeting, so why not allow him to do as he desired? "Very well, Myrnin, run along and play with your chemicals," she allowed, pulling a sheet of paper closer to herself before beginning to write her ideas for the destruction of her own kind.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving her to her solitude. She revelled in the silence, the thing that she got so little of nowadays, and began to decipher the complicated thought processes she had, trying desperately to formulate a plan inside her head that made sense when she wrote it out also.

~x~

The date for the next meeting rolled round quickly and it was with a sense of trepidation that Amelie dressed in her black robes. She tucked the books within her pocket and knew that her Father would soon be learning what was contained within the pages, though he most likely knew the majority of it also, and she could use that time to begin to decide who would be the easiest to attack.

"Remain at least two miles away," she reminded Myrnin and Oliver as the trio began to make their way across to Stonehenge, a journey slightly over an hour from their hometown.

"Yes, we are to discover the direction from which the Elders arrive, so we can pinpoint where we strike first," Oliver relayed, bored of the repetition of the same thing. "We understand what we are to do, Amelie; you needn't repeat yourself over and over again."

Her eyes narrowed as she paused, merely one hundred feet from the place where she has ordered her comrades not to pass beyond. "Very well, gentlemen, I shall return later and find out what information you have managed to collate," she smiled ever so slightly before walking on towards the meeting, alone.

.

Her Father walked across to her as soon as he saw her arrival, his expression cool as she regarded him. She wondered what process he had made, as well as debating internally as to whether this plan continued to be conceivable to work without him being suspicious that she really _didn't_ have any desire to work with him. Only at that moment would she be able to consider destroying him – because, for her then, he was _much_ too valuable an asset.

It was strange for her to consider him an ally, since she hated him more than anything, yet she considered him this simply because he was making her job one thousand times easier by ridding the world of the vampires she knew were so much stronger and older than the ones she had to dispose of.

"Amelie," he greeted her courteously and she did the same back, yet refrained from calling him her Father; she couldn't face that, not with the depth by which she hated him. "I presume you have my literature," he pressed and she removed the books slowly from her pocket, her eyes darting around at the same time to try and keep an eye on where the Elders were coming in from, which groups were the largest as they discussed their own matters before the meeting began.

"Yes, here you are," she replied dismissively, watching as he mouthed the question 'how many have you dealt with?' to her. "Unfortunately, I was unable to bring you the chicken you so desired to have, for there were to be no chickens found in my area of the country today."

"Most unfortunate," he understood her code instantly and was displeased with her – she could tell that by his tone. "Yet perhaps by the next meeting?"

"Most definitely," she replied confidently, flashing him her smile that she knew had always set him on edge. She knew her strengths when it came to her Father, and unnerving him was one of her undeniable ones. "That shan't be a problem. Yet the problem shall be: can you deliver on what you promised _me_?" she leaned forwards in a conspirative manner and he knew what she meant without a shadow of a doubt.

"Just watch, daughter," he sounded all too confident. "There shall be no issues with my success; _that_ is something I can guarantee you."

And, with a shiver that ran through her entire body, Amelie knew she could believe him.

* * *

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**Vicky xx**


	12. Opposition

**Chapter 12:**

**Have I owned anything thus far?**

* * *

_Bishop's POV:_

He knew he had something to prove; as he observed the fellow vampires who headed in the direction he took to return to France, Bishop _knew_ that he had to destroy as many as possible before the next meeting, yet in a discreet manner, at the same time. It would be all well and good, destroying the vampires, just to then be destroyed himself – even the hint of suspicion would be enough to send him, a new vampire Elder, crashing down. He would be burnt immediately, without question, if Elders felt that he was involved in the murders of so many of their people. He would have to ensure that, as he travelled continental Europe, he kept his tracks covered at _all_ times. There could be not one vampire who saw him that remained alive once he left that town; he would have to decimate the entire town's vampire population to make it seem less of a centred attack on the Elders, and more of a random attack. He would have to move fast and furiously, to make it seem as though it was more than one vampire who was attacking the cross section of Europe he would be striking; it could not seem as though it was merely one vampire who had a vengeance. To have survived as long as they had, the Elders must have been suspicious people, and if the newest member – who, coincidentally, happened to live in a similar region – seemed to be gaining from the demise of so many people older than himself, it would seem more than slightly suspicious.

Bishop curtly nodded in the direction of one of the vampires he would be targeting: someone not that much older than himself, in vampire terms of the word "old", and he seemed a relatively likeable fellow. That was, however, if Bishop didn't consider any other vampire – even those younger than himself – a threat to his mission to become the most powerful vampire in the world.

The world was a place which was limited in its size; Italy, more specifically Rome, happened to be the centre of everything within the Christian world, a faith which spanned the majority of the world Bishop recognised. It was a miracle in itself that the vampire congregation was focused around England and France, though Bishop considered it probably down to the extremeness of the purge on the supernatural in the area closest to the heart of the Catholic faith. The world was something smaller, harder to conquer, due to having to travel everywhere by foot, and through suspicious populations of humans, all of whom believed in the supernatural. Bishop had been trying for many years, to control at least part of the world which he knew, and he was proud to know he controlled a large section of France – but it wasn't enough. He wanted complete control…and he would settle for nothing less.

Within minutes, he had decided on the order by which he would pick the vampires off, starting the furthest south and working north, so he could be present, on the off chance that the Vampire Elder would stop by, if he happened to investigate the murders of so many of his congregation. He would have to work fast, "eating" on the way to save time, and he would have to travel through the day in order to destroy the vampires quicker, yet he was sure that one of the Elders – or one of the other vampires he would destroy – would have spare articles of thick clothing, in order to avoid the bright nature of the sun in the Mediterranean.

Everything was now in order. All he had to do was to return home, continue his routine until he was positive that he knew everything he had to do, and then put the careful planning into action.

It was with a sick relish that Bishop realised that he couldn't wait.

* * *

**. [Eight weeks later].**

To kill almost one hundred and fifty vampires, it took merely two weeks. Two weeks to end the lives of vampires who, if merely just by their age, ought to have been much stronger and more lithe than Bishop. Two weeks in which time Bishop, on his own two feet, ran across the majority of continental Europe, passing through towns and, every now and then, a city which seemed out of place in the relatively peaceful countryside. He ached for the fight in the hours when he was moving between sites of carnage, all his own physical wounds healed by the gluttons of blood he allowed himself from the location where so many vampires lay dead at a time, as would occur if a group of vampires had done what he had done alone.

He had done it.

He had destroyed almost one third of the vampires who resided in the countries lying south of England, destroyed them to the point that, if their place of residence was not known, their bodies would never be recognised as them. Only the personal relics that were deliberately left in order for the Elders to identify the bodies could show who each "person" was, their remains consisting of tatters of clothing and piles of ash.

Bishop knew that he had done his part; when they next met, it would be Amelie who was under pressure to perform – and maybe, if he happened to be lucky, she would have managed to destroy many of their opposition. She was the strongest female vampire in the world, of that Bishop was sure, even if he was not entirely certain that she knew this herself; he regarded her as stronger than the females who happened to be further up the rankings than herself – and yet this was nought to do with their blood relation. As far as Bishop was concerned, he _had_ no daughter; they had, since her Mother's death, never shared a close relationship, something which was worsened when he turned her, an event preceding her departure of her home country for England, the enemy of France.

She had the power to reach to a position of power, he was sure of that – but he also thought she had a limit. As much as she hated him, she could never _kill_ him, if only for the prosperity of his memory of her as a child, memories of her and her mother that only he retained. She could never let those memories that she would never know leave the world, even if she was never partial to them – they existed, and she could always speak about them with him. Bishop thought that she retained humanity, down to her idiotic friends' influence, something he would admit that he was slightly relieved about; there was a glint to his daughters' eyes that had him surprised as to just how far she had gone along the path he had desired her to take with him – and yet she had done it in a different manner, allowing her friendship and company along the way, forming relationships in a way to allow her _two_ personalities: the ruthless nature he had instilled in her, along with the side of her that could love those who she was close to.

He was aware that his daughter was lethal – yet only if she had the right direction and support, something he was sure she was lacking, with her bumbling idiots of friends. Yet he would not interfere. Not until she begged him to assist her, not until she admitted, on her knees, that she should never have left him, would he help her.

He would simply observe and laugh.

* * *

_Amelie's POV:_

"No, you _fool_!" she hissed at Myrnin as he brought her a sheaf of paper which she quickly regarded. "I believe that we discussed, due to the delicate nature of the plan from now onwards, we would be discussing our plans _verbally_, or have you managed to forget an entire conversation we had merely yesterday?" her tone was acerbic as she spoke to him, each word cutting through the air like a knife.

Simultaneously, she scanned over each piece of paper, memorising the contents, before ripping them to shreds, despite Myrnin's calls of how much time and effort he had spent on them. Continuing to ignore her fellow, Amelie began to set fire to each and every piece, a laborious process, which involved her ensuring that she avoided setting alight her own, flammable skin, something she had managed to do through her entire vampire life thus far.

"I evidently _have_ forgotten why you said not to write anything down, given I wasted valuable experiment time on something that is now redundant in the flames," Myrnin grumbled, his words flaring up Amelie's short temper once again. He thought, for the briefest moment, that she shone like the flame that had just been fed by the paper, before the comparison faded from his mind.

"We agreed yesterday that we would refrain from writing anything _conspicuous_ to the plan down, in order to prevent there being _incriminating evidence_, if we happened to be investigated for the murders," Amelie snarled at her friend, emphasising certain words for him to realise just how grave the situation could have been, if they had left the evidence and they happened to be suspects in the deaths.

Myrnin merely stood there. "And Oliver is aware of this?"

"_Yes_, Myrnin; you both sat opposite me yesterday, discussing how much you despise one another, and yet managed to simultaneously agree that I was right and that we ought not to have written plans of what we shall do. My Father will not have anything like this, therefore we need not either." She was curt with the mention of the man she hated the most, determined to succeed further than his expectations of her kills, to have absolutely nothing he could have cause to chastise in regards to her end of the deal. If she had been smart, she would have begun to pick off the Elders as they arrived home, destroying them before they even reached home, for, to ensure it did not seem as though the Elders were being targeted, she would have to shed more blood – though this time entirely innocent. This time, she would have to initiate the killing of so many younger vampires, until a point came when her mind control became strong enough to control more than one vampire at a time, for eternity.

She needed to be stronger to ensure this occurred; she had tested the power she had had since her second birth upon the pair of her friends, both of whom knew about this – Oliver, it turned out, even had an ability to do something they defined as "glamouring", which happened to be a weaker version of her own power – whilst Myrnin merely gloated about his superior brain power. She had found that, as her position increased, so did the duration of time she could control the pair of them, and even to the point where she could control them both.

Once she had this power, she would no longer have to kill _all_ those who were associated with the Elders – just…some. The others, those who appeared useful, would be grateful help in the setting up of the base she decided she must have, alongside protection duties. She wanted the battle to be the Eldest to end with her, after all, and if she had loyal guards, she was sure that they would protect her against anything.

Myrnin merely furrowed his brow before his eyes lit up with the memory of the event from the day before. "Ahh yes, that makes sense! Well…I shall be out in my laboratory, until you decide that you have formulated your plan enough for us to carry it out." he didn't sound particularly put out by this turn of events, but rather happier, for he had the chance to spend more time with his beloved alchemy.

Amelie, however, knew that she had something to prove – to Myrnin, to Oliver…and to her Father. Whilst she hated every connection she had to him, she knew that she _had_ to prove herself to him, prove that she was strong enough to destroy her enemies – yet not strong enough to destroy _him_. Naturally, she was…but that was her secret weapon. To appear strong, yet weak enough not to be a threat to her Father's idea of what would occur was what she had to strive for – and this idea included an easy kill of her own.

It would have to be the one who would be the one who she could destroy herself, someone who would never be able to destroy _her_…and that was the issue. She did not know one who could be able to help her fulfil this stage – and she was running out of time. If she didn't act now, act to get herself a tad more power, she would be forced to merely rely on Oliver and Myrnin, as usual, something she preferred, yet also didn't. she preferred the lack of blood on her hands, the way that she had merely the death to complete whilst the men found their prey, yet she missed the hunt for her own pleasure.

She had been sadistic, in her first months as a vampire, someone who she tried to forget; she was rough and brutal, catching humans for food and destroying them slowly, causing them agony as she had been caused. She had wanted others to know how it felt, to be turned into a vampire, yet without actually turning them – she wanted them to know how it felt to be violated in ways that weren't wanted, the way that she had been turned into something she despised, all for her Father's master plan. This streak, the one she preferred to mask with her fierce temper and _true_ personality – the one of sharp, yet witty humour, the one which could cope with Myrnin and Oliver, loving both passionately – was what would have to be released to get her the control of the entire vampire population. It was the thing she had managed to hide from everyone, and therefore would be more than a shock for Bishop, the man who considered her to be dangerous, she was sure, yet nowhere near as strong as she actually was.

"Yes, that is certainly acceptable," Amelie replied, her voice more distant than before, as she imagined a world which _she _controlled. The vampire world, touching the human one, yet distant at the same time; the world_ she_ could dictate, control to her beliefs. It was with a smile that she finished.

"You run along and play with your chemicals, Myrnin; I shall discover a way for us to win this war with the greatest success rate possible."

He stood in front of her for another minute, gulping as he didn't dare ask what she meant by the latter bit.

* * *

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	13. Inferno

_Chapter 13:_

_I don't own anything_

* * *

_Amelie's POV:_

Within three hours, she had formulated a plan that could potentially wipe out almost two thirds of her enemies within England, Scotland and Wales, and she knew that it was so ingenious – if it worked – that there would be nothing that could occur in the vampire world that could cause more destruction, ever to happen. It was dangerous to everyone involved, especially herself, if she happened to be the instigator, but she knew that the chance of her being caught within the trap was relatively low; she would not die, she was sure of it. And there was a very, _very_ small possibility that she would be caught as the person who had caused it, because the vampires killed would be coming from the _other_ side of the country to her, so there should be no reason why she would be suspected…at least, that was the theory.

And the best part of her planning was that because Bishop had finished _his_ reign of terror within a short period of time of this plan, it was quite conceivable that the group of vampires (as she knew that was what his aim was, for people to think more than one vampire had killed the masses of vampires dead on the bloody pathway snaking through Europe) would have moved across the Channel and launched their attack on the Elders.

Then again, perhaps not: Amelie had heard, through sources that were perhaps not the _most _reliable, that apparently the 'group of vampires' were biding their time, waiting until the hierarchy of vampires crossed the Channel in order to hunt down these vampires themselves. And therefore there would be very little chance that there would be an attack on the Elders in _their_ meeting place…something further supported by Amelie's knowledge of it being Bishop who had been the attacking force, and therefore he could not attack the Elders without revealing it had been him who had caused such widespread carnage.

"Myrnin," Amelie called, raising her voice just marginally, so he could hear her. "I require your assistance," she continued, as his curly-haired head popped through the door mere seconds later.

"Ahh, I presume that you have succeeded in formulating a plan in your mind?" Myrnin commented, strangely upbeat for no apparent reason – but that was just Myrnin, nothing different about him than usual.

"Yes, I do," she said, motioning for him to sit down before her as she spoke. "And I require your best alchemical knowledge, Myrnin. There is a time for you to allow the creative juices of your mind to roam free, unadulterated and without question as to the sanity of your idea."

"I am most _certainly_ intrigued, Amelie, but how could I not be, when this mysterious plan of yours affords me to possibly use this ingenious new creation I have, where I have mixed an extraordinary number of chemicals in order to—" he was cut off by Amelie after a few sentences; she could only take so much of his illogical alchemy babble, after all, and she had reached her limit.

"Yes, yes, I quite understand that you are excited, though you are yet to be aware of the plan I have constructed," she reminded him, her voice perhaps harsher than she would normally have been – anything to do with her father had always left her on the edge, she realised, and woe behold anyone who happened to irritate her whenever she was in one of these moods. "I need you to, by whatever means possible, create a scenario where, if one spark is set alight, it will burn everything – and everyone – within a three mile radius. And I require you to have made it in three days time, before the next impromptu meeting, so it can be arranged in the correct location, to remove as many Elders as possible."

As she spoke, Amelie watched Myrnin closely. There was no response to her desire to murder, in complete cold blood, however many vampires – and humans who got caught in the middle of it – besides for a calculating expression, one that showed he was already focused on the task in hand and how to twist his knowledge of the sciences, of alchemy, to the point that it allowed him to do something humans wouldn't consider in even five hundred years. Amelie wanted something to cause a massacre of unheard of extremes, and it was obvious that she was going to settle for nothing less.

"I…I may have something, though it would be potentially dangerous to whomever initiated the attack…but there _would_ be the positive that there would be no plausible way to link it to any of us in particular, for it would appear relatively natural. Obviously, with the events of late, it would most likely be linked to the actions within the mainland Europe, and that could only work to our advantage, I presume." Myrnin sounded…_thoughtful_ to Amelie, as though the problem of killing was merely something that could be worked through in a logical manner.

"Well, if you can have your creation arranged by the deadline I have set, that would be most useful," she replied pointedly. "_Otherwise_, my father may feel it more beneficial to him to eradicate our deal, and for him to point the blame in our direction for the carnage that occurred throughout the Mediterranean."

"Certainly, that shall not be an issue," Myrnin commented, standing up and rushing out of the room before Amelie could even consider uttering another word. She had many things she wanted to discuss with him, such as practicality of carrying his invention across the _country_ with assured safety, but there was no chance of that now he had the opportunity to unleash his creative instincts and create something that worked. She had no doubt that it would work, though perhaps its limitations would be just as dangerous to herself as it would be to her opponents.

Then again, that was a risk that Amelie knew she had to take.

_~x~_

"Run, Myrnin," she told him, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, on the off chance that a vampire could pass and recognise her – at least the cloak afforded her the chance to not be immediately identified by someone she may well know. "I will remain and light the line of fuel; I will then run myself before the trigger catches alight. You have worked it out, I suppose, that I shall be afforded enough time to run without being harmed, I presume?"

He nodded and muttered something, but she didn't understand; it was in his native tongue, and she had never had an inkling to learn Welsh – English had been tedious enough. "Yes, yes, it will be fine," he commented, realising that Amelie was waiting for a response that she could understand. "You will have approximately thirteen seconds to clear four hundred metres; less than that distance and you risk showing side effects from the blast at the meeting, something which would not bode well for your cries of innocence," he reminded her.

"I know. And now, you are to return home to Oliver and the pair of you must prepare for the next Elders Council meeting. There cannot be _that_ many more of us, surely, before you and your fellow friend of mine are invited to join the ranks," she reminded him, and he rolled his eyes, once again muttering something in Welsh before smiling ever so slightly.

"I shall see you when you return after the meeting, Amelie. Good luck." And, with that, her dearest friend was running away, not desiring to remain and add pressure to the tense situation she faced. If she did this wrong, the flames would move towards her before they were meant to, and engulf her slender body. If she did it right, then it would destroy anything that approached, and she knew enough about the vampires on this side of the country that they always travelled in a pack, to prevent attack from other vampires, or even humans. Apparently, the superstitious nature of humans on the East of England was much greater than that where Amelie lived – or so she hoped – and this was their reasoning for travelling in such a large group.

But she had to wait until they were close before she set fire to the paths of twisting liquid, trails that snaked through the trees and grassland and was attached to small boxes that Myrnin had made; Amelie didn't understand what the liquid was, and she didn't have any idea whatsoever about the boxes, but she was _well_ aware that they were dangerous, whatever was inside. Yesterday, Myrnin had tested out a much smaller version, in a meadow thirteen miles from their home. She had watched in a silent horror as everything within the four acre wide meadow was incinerated.

Perhaps the three mile radius was too _small_ for his predictions.

For now, though, all Amelie had to do was wait.

_~x~_

It wasn't long before they appeared in her sight, just in the background. Now was the time to strike.

Her hand shook slightly as she rubbed two pieces of flint together, waiting for the spark that she _knew_ would come…until it did. As soon as she saw it, she dropped everything she was holding, inclusive of a handkerchief that had an _A_ embroidered onto the corner, and ran in the direction Myrnin told her would be the safest.

And it was from there, behind a land bunker filled with wet, sodden soil, did she watch as the inferno blazed.

There was no gradual build up of fire, as there generally was; it was a sudden blast, heat reaching as far back as she was as though it was a hot summer's day. Twists of orange and yellow mingled with red and a thick, grey coloured smoke that began to rise steadily in a plume. Within the licking flames that consumed everything in their reach, she could hear the yells of some of the vampires, as the fire ripped their skin from their bones and made them into piles of ash.

She had done it.

And there hadn't been one single problem.

(She ignored how it seemed far too easy to do it.)

_~x~_

At the Elders meeting the next evening, she saw her father standing next to Jonathan, his eyes watching her as she entered the circle, dressed in her robes. With just the smallest inclination of her head, she indicated that _she_ was responsible for the murder of almost three hundred vampires, and that there was no doubt about her being adequately strong and dangerous to tackle this issue.

She could tell that the other Elders were agitated, and she was a good enough actress to pretend that she felt the same way, though she knew Bishop's eyes lingered on her for more than just paternal feelings; she had, through one movement, diminished the brutality shown by his actions, because she had struck the Elder's Council so close to home, defeated vampires who were on their way to discuss how to deal with the problem in Europe.

Amelie had managed to make herself more dangerous than her father.

And she should have known that that _really_ wasn't going to go down well with Bishop.

* * *

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	14. Handkerchief

_Chapter 14:_

_I don't own anything_

* * *

The meeting, for Amelie, was a great success in her rising through the ranks of the Council, as well as for increasing the feeling of agitation and fear in the Council members. Things were bad enough when they only knew of the string of murders on the mainland; as soon as the news of the three hundred or so vampires in _England_'s deaths reached them, the opinion that they were facing an enemy far greater than they previously thought came about.

"Have you considered," Bishop began, the meeting near to its end, and Amelie realised that she didn't want him to speak. He could destroy her; he was angered that her actions had caused more ruckus than his, and that was not something that boded well for her future, "that the perpetrator of these heinous crimes may, in fact, be at this meeting?"

He had done it. Even as Amelie silently begged him not to, he said the words that increased the panic in the air – and had everyone looking at one another in suspicion, and also shock. Her skills barely afforded her the ability to hide the feelings she truly felt – desolation, anger and a fear of being discovered – and she could only plaster suspicion onto her face as eyes flickered onto her face. Nobody truly believed that there could be such an evil person in their midst, she was sure, yet every time someone looked at _her_, she felt that they were about to pull her up as a possible killer.

"No," Jonathan said slowly, though not before looking at everyone in turn, "that's not possible. Yourself and your daughter are the newest members, and neither of you were _that_ close to the murders. Nobody else here would kill so many of our kind, I am sure of it. Intriguing thought, Bishop, yet this cannot be true."

_Phew_, Amelie let out a sigh of relief internally, yet managed to keep the smile off her face as Bishop cast a murderous look after their Eldest vampire – though without anyone seeing, of course. Unfortunately for her, the same look was then directed towards her, though was soon replaced by a faux smile.

"How about rival vampire groups?" Amelie found herself suggesting, not sure where the words were coming from. "I mean, you're the oldest in _this_ area of the world, Jonathan; what if there is someone from, say, Asia, or an area unbeknownst to us, who feels they ought to have the seat of power? It's possible, I presume." After explaining her logic, she didn't phrase her words as a question: she said it as a plausible theory, one that couldn't be disputed, and she was pleased to see other vampires nodding their heads in agreement.

Even their Eldest looked impressed with this logic, far more than he did when her Father was discussing his train of thought. "We have had dealings with those in China and other countries before you were invited to this group, dear Amelie," Jonathan replied thoughtfully, his eyes trained on her, yet they were blank and unseeing. She knew he was remembering the past, the time when they had fought their enemies in battle. "And that is a possibility; they may have broken our barriers, and began pilfering and plundering, as they did prior to our victory. Very good, child; you have learnt fast – perhaps you ought to teach your Father lessons of trusting thy neighbour, and to always suspect the natural enemy."

The look Bishop flashed her was apparently supportive, as an ordinary Father would flash his daughter, yet the sinister undertone to it had Amelie sure that he was going to have words with her about this, also. In all honesty, she did not particularly care; she would always be able to reply with how she had destroyed so many vampires and cause such mayhem, and yet neither of them could be here without the other.

"Thank you, Jonathan," Amelie responded, a prim smile on her face, one that suggested she was happy, yet reigning in her pleasure due to the grim subject they were discussing. "I hope that we can find these…people, and soon, before they hurt any more of our number."

Murmurings of assent littered the crowd of vampires, and Amelie caught snatches of conversations right the way across the area; nobody seemed calm or relaxed, as they had previously, and there was a definite tension that had people not trusting the others around them. Bishop's words had been silenced by Jonathan, yet that did not make the other vampire Elders believe that they were entirely untrue. There was always the possibility that their fellows were murderers, they knew, and that meant they had to be extra careful, now.

"That is what we all want, Amelie," Jonathan said to Amelie, his moving towards her signalling the unspoken end of the meeting. Immediately, people began to converge in small groups, muttering about things and heading in different directions; everyone did this, so that only Bishop, Amelie and Jonathan remained. "Due to number shortages, both of your friends are now eligible to join us, though if they do not behave responsibly, I shall be forced to take action." He didn't sound happy about such young – compared to himself, Amelie presumed – vampires being invited to join, yet with their numbers so depleted, he had no choice.

"I shall inform them of that when I arrive home," she promised, and with a few more words before a goodbye, Jonathan was gone. Now, she was left alone with Bishop. "You do not seem pleased, Father, that I would be able to complete my side of our negotiation." As she spoke, she didn't look at him, and continued to stare at her nails, knowing that this would infuriate him further.

He swallowed three times before replying. "You did your job _too_ well, Amelie; there is now suspicion that was not there—" he tried to continue, but she cut him off, her icy grey eyes meeting his cold, near black eyes with a look that screamed hatred.

"_No_," she said, her voice filled with anger. "I did not bring anything upon us, besides give us a further chance to blame the foreign vampires; if they had attacked for weeks, then suddenly stopped when the meeting was called, it would cast suspicion on _you_ and other vampires in your area, more than it would anyone else. If you desire me to say that it _was_ you, I would be more than pleased, for my dangerous side has been far better hidden than yours." She knew she had won, and the look he gave her made her almost want to laugh with pride. "Now, now, Father; there is no need for such darkened expressions. One would think that you did not love your own flesh and blood."

She didn't add on the end that she despised him.

"We must be careful," Bishop changed the subject, his eyes locked on the fire before them, its light casting everything besides what was directly in front of it into shadow, the flickering causing a great distraction. "We cannot strike at Jonathan yet, but there cannot be too long a wait before we do; it is dangerous now, to continue at this staggered pace, killing in sprees and then stopping. More vampires must be recruited to join our cause, otherwise we cannot hope to succeed."

Amelie paused, her eyes betraying her shock; this was not something she had expected, and he knew it. She didn't want more than herself, Myrnin and Oliver – as well as Bishop, for now – because this was the point! It was supposed to be a singular affair, one that seated her in power and didn't cause her to rely on others.

"I don't want to," she began, yet stopped as she realised she sounded like an insolent child. "There is no point, Father, for otherwise, word will get out. You will be killed for defying Jonathan, for vampires hold no prisoners, have no loyalty when they are caught. Saving our skins is better than being killed, after all; you are aware of this principle more than anyone." The reminder of what he had done in the past was a shock to Bishop, or at least that Amelie knew about it, and he took a few moments to reply.

"We are doing this, Amelie." His tone was final, and something in it made Amelie think that this was a mistake, that working with her Father wouldn't allow her the chance to destroy him. Perhaps he was just _too_ powerful. "And if you don't, I shall go to Jonathan myself and hand you in as the murderer of all those people."

He pulled something out of his pocket with a wry smile, and Amelie gasped as she looked at the item.

"Shouldn't be leaving evidence at the crime, should we, Amelie?"

It was her handkerchief.

* * *

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	15. Promises

_Chapter 15:_

I don't own anything.

* * *

Amelie could only stare at her father as he held her handkerchief. Foolishly, she made to reach out to try and grab it from Bishop, but he stepped out of her reach and replaced the evidence in his pocket.

"Now," he continued, as though he hadn't paused, "I _could_ take this to our dearest Elder now, and have you staked for destroying so many of our kind…but I won't. You are my daughter, and so long as you do what I want you to, you will be kept safe." He smiled, and Amelie knew in that moment that he had won. He had control over her that she had always tried to avoid him having…and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Very well, initiate your attempts to bring an army against Jonathan, but do not expect me to aid you in this mission," she replied coolly, narrowing her eyes at her father. "Communicate with me when you have the next stage of your plan finalised, since it _evidently_ no longer considers me to be a pivotal part."

With that, Amelie made to walk away, until her father's fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back to face him. The physical contact scared Amelie, though she wouldn't openly admit it, simply because of who it was touching her, and just what he was capable of.

"You leave when _I_ tell you to," he whispered in her ear, his voice fierce. "You are very much a part of this plan, _daughter_, but it is mine, and you will do what I want. Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly, keeping her expression neutral as their eyes met. "Certainly. You are egoistical and want me to do what you demand; I refuse. I will be my own person as long as I can manage." She knew the blow was coming and ducked, twirling out of her father's grasp and stopping ten metres away. "Come to _me_ when you have something you want to discuss, father, for I am headed home."

Amelie knew that Bishop would be angry, not only with how she spoke to him but how she dismissed him as nothing…but that was not an issue to her at the current time. All she had to do was go home to her friends and relax for a time, until the most likely idiotic stage in her father's plan was completed.

_~x~_

Almost three months later, he visited.

It was in the dead of night, when even Amelie, Oliver and Myrnin had headed to their beds, and Amelie couldn't say that she was surprised it had taken such a short time – relatively speaking, of course. Her father had always been manipulative, and even if he hadn't persuaded Elders, there would be a large number of younger vampires who he could make join him in his stance against Jonathan.

"Answer the door, Amelie," he called from the front door, and as he spoke, Amelie shot awake. She knew that he could enter without her permission – they were both vampires, after all – but she appreciated that he was behaving with civility.

Within three minutes, Amelie had dressed hastily in one of her simplest dresses and had moved downstairs in order to answer the door. Myrnin, too, was up and moving around, just a little behind Amelie's schedule, and he was just emerging on the top of the stairs when Amelie answered the door.

Her father was standing on the doorstep, alone, a slight smile playing on his lips. "You certainly took your time answering the door; you weren't _sleeping_, were you?" he said, moving into the hallway without another word.

Across the street, Amelie saw Oliver's head in the window, his eyes on her and her visitor, and she inclined her head ever so slightly to indicate that she wanted him to come across. "I was, yes, father; we do _try_ and blend in with the humans around here." Her voice was slightly irritated as she spoke, following her father in his pursuit of her library. In that moment, she was glad that her more private documents were upstairs, in the cupboard, given that her father was rather fond of prying through her things.

She was right. Immediately after entering the room, Bishop was picking up books and flicking through them, pretending to look as though he was reading them, though Amelie knew that he was actually looking for slips of paper hidden within them.

"What do you want tonight, father?" she asked, breaking the silence that was growing between them. In the hallway, Myrnin stood, waiting to see what he was to do, and within another thirty seconds, Oliver was standing alongside him.

"Bring your little friends in if you want to, Amelie; I am not going to hurt you, but they _are_ part of this, after all," her father replied, not answering her question, his tone almost amused.

With his words, Amelie's friends entered the room and stood behind where she sat, watching her father with intense stares.

"What do you want tonight, father?" Amelie repeated, her voice low and steady as she waited for an answer.

She stared at him until he responded, setting the book back on the shelf and taking the seat opposite Amelie. "I have an army – I am ready to march on the Elders' Council and defeat them," he said in a tone far too matter-of-fact for what he was saying. "I will, naturally, defeat Jonathan at the final battle, as per our agreement…but I am here to have you sign an oath of loyalty to me, so that you will not try and assist Jonathan."

Amelie was stunned. She had expected he had his army – she just didn't expect him to turn up and expect her to sign an oath of allegiance, something she had never, ever done in her life.

"No," she said quietly, turning to look at her friends for a brief moment before shaking her head. "I will fight alongside you, naturally, but I will _not_ sign or swear anything to you; I never have done, and you cannot force me to."

Bishop stared at her in shock for a full five seconds, before his features twisted into a version of a smile. "Are you saying that you _won't_ swear to me?" he confirmed, standing in one, fluid movement. "Even if I threatened your little friends here, would you not sign with me?"

Another look passed between herself, Oliver and Myrnin. Another shake of her head. "Even if you threatened my friends – even if you threatened _me_ – I would not agree to anything you want to make me say to be yours forever. You know that I want my freedom, father, and that I have never wanted to be your servant."

He flashed across the room, reaching for Oliver's neck, but before he could get there, Amelie stood up, flashing her fangs in her father's direction. "Now, now, father, you don't want to attack _my_ friends, do you?" she said, her voice taking an airy-fairy quality. "They belong to _me_, and attacking Oliver would be to attack me – and that would destroy our partnership, you know. Stay away from them."

Bishop stopped a metre away from the three of them, Amelie, the shortest, in front of her friends, and laughed once; it was without humour. "Very well. If you promise that you will not tell Jonathan of my plans, then you will be spared. If you—"

"Don't threaten me, father," Amelie replied, her eyes flashing bright, brilliant red as she spoke. "I will be there, with Myrnin and Oliver, and we will fight and defeat Jonathan and the other Elders. You do not require a promise from me; I want this. Please leave."

Father and daughter stared at one another for a good minute, trying to make the other stop staring first; in the end, it was Bishop who looked away first. "I will see you at the next meeting, Amelie – and you had better be prepared to fight."

He stormed out of the room, and out of the house, and as Bishop left, Amelie sank back into her chair; it had taken energy to appear as confident as she did, and she wondered whether or not she would ever have the energy to truly defeat her father.

With the situation as it was, she doubted it.

* * *

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	16. Preparation

_Chapter 16:_

I don't own anything

* * *

As soon as Amelie was certain her father was out of earshot – something confirmed by Oliver going out and heading in the direction of Bishop's scent – she moved, heading for her bedroom and her papers. She had been working on a plan, yet she had refrained from telling either Myrnin or Oliver until this point, for fear that when her father visited, he would torture them into telling…or if they chose to turn on _her_.

That was unlikely to happen, but in her existence thus far, Amelie had learnt that one does not rely on what one believes likely to happen; keeping things quiet until the last possible moment – or at least, the safest – was the best way to ensure a positive outcome.

At least, she hoped.

"What do we do now, Amelie?" Myrnin pressed, following her down the hall, up the stairs and into her room; there were no boundaries between them, not in the sense of propriety and custom of the current day. "What are your plans?"

Slightly amazed that Myrnin had presumed she had plans, Amelie stopped for a full five seconds and stared at her friend, her eyes wide with shock. "You…you presumed that I have a plan?" she said, her voice betraying her feelings.

Myrnin smiled. "Yes, my lady," he replied, as though it would be obvious that Amelie, indeed, had a plan. "You would not have suffered him otherwise, and I know your technique: you refrain from telling myself and the idiot until the last possible moment, to ensure that the details do not have a chance to be ripped from our minds through physical – or mental – torment."

Amelie was stunned that Myrnin had paid this much attention to her and how she conducted herself in the face of their enemies; she had thought that he merely turned up to discover what he had to do, and would much rather be playing with his chemicals. This was, indeed, a great surprise. "I never knew you paid this much attention, Myrnin, it is something that has shocked me, yet in a pleasant way," said Amelie in response, looking away from Myrnin as she searched for the document she desired.

Whilst it was risky for her to write down anything, Amelie preferred to have a written version for her to finalise the details, before she then shared it with whomever she was fighting alongside; then, she would destroy it. It would be suicide, to leave it for anyone to find, even if she successfully defeated her father's entire army – for all she knew, he could have converted every vampire in existence to his cause, save for the three in her home.

"Here," she murmured to herself, finding the sheet she desired mixed within a number of loose pages from one of her first Bibles; she had kept the pages merely because it was one of the only relics she had left from her mother's existence, and they provided a good hiding place for her private papers. "I have devised a plan that involves us having a very short period of time to change tact, and involves an awful lot of murder." She knew that her voice betrayed her sadness at having to kill so many of her kind who were, for the most part, innocent…but she was  
going to kill dozens of innocent Elders – it shouldn't matter how old the innocents were.

By the time Amelie had the paper on the table and was beginning to explain it to Myrnin, Oliver appeared, having completed a more thorough search of where Bishop's scent had been, prior to his visit to Amelie's home.

"He went to three homes," Oliver said grimly, throwing his hat deftly to land on Amelie's coat stand. "And killed in one of them – the maid. There is no link to us whatsoever; he, at least, had the courtesy to disguise the killing by making it seem as though she had stabbed herself, and had left a note of suicide. The other two homes merely had been visited, as far as I can tell."

Amelie nodded slowly. "Thank you, Oliver – now, come and listen to the plan…"

_~x~_

The plan was simple: Amelie, Myrnin and Oliver would fight alongside Bishop and his army, yet staying more on the backlines – Myrnin, in particular, would be doing this. Amelie's father would not be aware that they were hesitating; he would engage with Jonathan, and whilst he was doing that, Amelie would ensure that the Elders had been destroyed.

At this point, Oliver and Myrnin would fetch the fire torches and create rings of fire around those vampires Bishop considered his. This would allow Amelie the chance to attack whilst her father was still weak from defeating Bishop, and not allow him to call on his army to destroy her – she could defeat him, she knew, but not at the same time as defending against his army.

Whilst she was destroying Bishop, they would be sifting through the army, deciding who was far too loyal to Bishop to be allowed to survive – there were always some – and discovering who would follow Amelie as their new leader, in a world where the Elders no longer made the decisions: it was just Amelie. She would have absolute power, should she choose to use it – but the plan ensured that her two friends stressed the fact that, unless it was to save their entire race, she would not do such a thing. She had no interest in being a control freak, as her father surely would if he was allowed to take the position.

"The question is, do you think it will work?" Amelie asked quietly, her voice the only sound in the room; since she had begun to explain the plan, there had been no noise from either of her friends, save for their necessary breaths. As she looked at them, their features darkened due to the lack of light in the room, she hesitated, waiting to see whether or not they felt that her plan could work.

After what seemed like an eternity, the duo smiled in tandem, and Amelie felt her fears fading. "It is well thought out and is definitely a viable plan," Oliver said, whilst Myrnin merely said, "we will win."

And that, Amelie felt, was the greatest endorsement the plan could get.

"Prepare for battle, gentlemen," she said, turning around to find a candle. "We do not know when the next meeting is; let us only pray that it is soon."

After lighting the candle, Amelie lifted the plan to the flickering flame and watched as it licked up the paper, causing the words written to disintegrate into nothing but ash. "Oh, how we must pray," she whispered to herself, and it was that moment that her friends departed, without a word from her.

_They do know_ some_ things,_ she thought to herself, almost amused.

_~x~_

"We must be able to fight," Bishop said to the number of his vampires who were close to him, having returned to his base after seeing Amelie. "You must fight alongside my daughter and her friends – right until the final moments." He took a moment's pause, for dramatic effect.

"Then I want you to capture the three of them, and once I have defeated Jonathan, bring them to me. I will be teaching my daughter a lesson – to obey thy father – and I shall need her imbeciles alive to do that."

He smiled wickedly. This had the potential to be the greatest day of his life.

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(the next chapter will contain the final fight.)


	17. Finale Part 1

_Chapter 17:_

* * *

_Amelie's POV:_

It was the day of the fight.

It was the day that her life would change forever—it was the day that she would become the oldest vampire in the world.

The meeting had been called the week before, due to a massacre of Elders in eastern Germany, and Amelie knew then that the preparations they had been making would be required; they would need to be well-nourished, well prepared and above all, confident in what they were doing. She couldn't fight with Oliver and Myrnin if she felt that they would run away when the going got tough—but she trusted them. She had been with them for an extended period of time now, and she knew that although Oliver had his plans for the future, he would fight alongside her for now.

The only issue was with the enemy they faced. Her father would have trained them to be vicious and cruel; they would be loyal allies in the fight against the Elders, Amelie was certain, but the moment that she and her friends turned on them, the fight would be close. With all their skills, Myrnin and Oliver would be able to put up a good fight, but only if Amelie defeated her father quickly would they be able to survive.

"Are you quite alright?" Myrnin asked Amelie from the house they lodged in, having (regrettably) killed the owners the previous night. They were merely a five minutes' walk from the meeting grounds, and their meal was going to be easy enough to access, given that most of the humans around here fell asleep before the sun set.

"Yes, yes," she murmured, her eyes still distant as she imagined the evening's events. "I just…victory needs to be mine. I have never sworn to my father, and this evening will not change that; he will make me swear fealty to him if I lose—I must _not_ lose."

"You will not," Oliver added in, and Myrnin forewent his customary look of disgust as the two men agreed. "You are good and worthy of victory, two things your father is not. Your success is guaranteed."

Amelie could only hope that he was right.

_~x~_

The evening was colder than usual, though naturally, it didn't make a difference to the three vampires as they made their way to the meeting place as usual. Amelie had no clue as to whether or not the meeting would get underway before her father emerged with his army, or whether he would even turn up with them; they may have been 'scheduled' to arrive later than him, to avoid suspicion as he approached Oliver—she just didn't know.

The three of them sat a way apart from the rest of the Elders, not that they were particularly noticed; they were young, and amidst the stress of what had occurred in their world over the course of only a few months was scaring them to drop their poise, and to be openly admitting their fear that they may be next.

_If only you know_, Amelie thought, and it was at that exact moment that she heard the movement of vampires—as no human would be approaching Stonehenge at midnight—from the village where they had slept.

The army was coming.

She turned surreptitiously to count that all the vampires were present, and that it wasn't just merely latecomers, but they were there; the advancing group were Bishop's, ready to slaughter whomever got in their way.

Thankfully, the position herself, Myrnin and Oliver had chosen was easily out of the way of the others, those who were the targets, but due to their loud and unruly arguing about what to do—one vampire's solution was to swim as far away as possible, and to be alone in the world, so that their allies couldn't turn out to be their enemies swathed in sheep's clothing—they hadn't heard the near-silent procession towards the Elders. None of them were facing in the correct direction, also, another reason why they weren't noticing the invaders.

It wasn't until the first Elder was being grabbed by the hands of a blonde haired woman who looked slightly like Amelie, did they realise that there was anything at all amiss.

Immediately, Myrnin and Oliver stood up, remaining where they were as they waited to see what happened to Bishop's force. Nobody bothered them in the opening minutes of the quiet fight; their fellows were too busy defending themselves, and Amelie presumed that Bishop's army—almost one hundred vampires, she thought a rough estimate would be—had been ordered to leave them be, as per her agreement.

"May all the luck in the world be with you," she murmured to Myrnin and Oliver as she stood up and advanced towards the raised point where Bishop and Jonathan were now facing one another.

"And you, my dear," Myrnin replied, watching as Amelie moved away. She could feel his eyes on her back, and sighed, knowing that this could be the very last time that she saw him alive.

In front of her now, merely ten metres or so away, the fight between Jonathan and her father began, the same as the fight between Bishop's men and the Elders below, save for one difference: they were matched for one another; those fighting below were not. Here, Bishop's savagery and planning were a match for Jonathan's superior strength and agility, due to his age.

Amelie felt that the silent fight could last hours—if it wasn't for the atmosphere caused by those below.

Most of the Elders were already dead, and this distracted the Eldest vampire; whenever he had the upper hand and could afford to, he looked across at the situation beneath him—and that ended up being his downfall.

Bishop feigned injury, Jonathan looked across, and in those seconds, Bishop made his move. He laughed himself at the Eldest vampire, knocking him to the ground and rolling on top of him, pinning him down.

"You've lost," he growled in Jonathan's face, and Amelie felt a brief wave of fear pass over her as she watched. "And now, you get to die."

And with that, he brought a knife from his pocket and threw it into Jonathan's neck, all but severing the head from his body.

The Eldest was dead.

The Elders were dead.

Bishop was now all that stood in Amelie's way to getting the thing she desired the most.

"Hello, Father," she said as she approached him on the raised area, in the foreground of Stonehenge. "I see you have come here to die."

* * *

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	18. Finale Part 2

_Chapter 18:_

Her father stared at Amelie in shock, so stunned that he didn't even register what was occurring between his troops and Amelie's friends. "What did you say?" he repeated, his voice unsteady for the first time that Amelie could remember.

She smiled slightly, reaching behind her into the pocket of her dress and clasping the handle of the knife enclosed within it as she did so. "I said that you are going to die, Father," she said, taking another step closer to him. "I don't want to live in a world where you are the ruler and everyone is your sub-ordinate; _I_ want to take control. I will not live with you as my sole authority figure!"

Bishop snarled as Amelie took another pace towards him, slipping into a defensive position once more. "And how do you propose you will do that alone?" he sneered. "Your little friends are not behind you; you are alone against me, your father, the oldest vampire in the world…and yet you suppose to think that you can _defeat_ me?"

Amelie didn't react as he spoke, didn't cower away as she knew he wanted; instead, she merely took another step closer to her father. "And you are weak, Father," she told him. "You have just fought a battle—you are not ready to face another. Yet I am strong, with the will and determination to defeat the man I have despised since I was a child. I am ready to do this. Prepare for death, Father."

Before Bishop could even consider moving to attack Amelie, she had moved, twirling around and jumping high into the air in order to land on the other side of a disorientated Bishop, who took a fraction of a second too long to turn around and face his daughter. This lack of timing caused Amelie to launch herself at her father, pushing him down from the raised area and onto the grass below.

They rolled in silence, grappling with one another in order to try and gain the upper hand, something which Amelie retained for the majority of the time. One time her father gained the upper hand teased a growl from her lips, but other than that, the only sound was of the material of their clothes rolling upon the ground, the attempts to damage the other's skin causing no noise whatsoever.

And then finally, Amelie had the chance to make her move against her father, to destroy Bishop once and for all.

On the other side of the field, Myrnin and Oliver were, as far as Amelie could see, holding their own against Bishop's vampires, destroying more than she had perhaps considered them capable of. They were not her concern now; that was reserved for the man who was on the ground beneath her knee, the one who was attempting to rip her leg from her body in his attempt to escape her grasp.

"What's the matter, Father?" Amelie said, her eyes glistening as she reached for the knife in her pocket. "Do you not like to be beaten by your daughter? Does it not bode particularly well for your attempts to dominate the world?"

Bishop didn't speak, instead focusing his energy on growling and snarling at the same time as trying to get his grip on Amelie firm enough for her to lose her position of power over him.

All these attempts, however, were thwarted when Amelie swung her arm and drove the knife in her hand down into Bishop's chest, effectively stilling his body save for his facial expressions. His grabbing hands fell to the ground, and Amelie took an entire second to look at the situation before her and to understand that if she were to leave the knife in place, her father would die—it would be slow, but he would die.

However, Amelie couldn't chance that she left him and one of his followers would remove the knife before he died; that would be dangerous to her in the future, there was no doubting that. She had to ensure that he died—and she knew only one method which would ensure that.

_Draining_.

Slowly, hesitantly, Amelie removed the blade from Bishop's chest and lifted him up so that he was no longer lying down, he was supported in his daughter's arms. "The wound could heal, if I desired it to," she told him honestly, knowing that she had to act quickly. "But I don't want it to; I want you to die. So you shall die, Father, and the world will be a happier place without you."

With that, Amelie's fangs fell the extra half a centimetre she wanted, and with the arching of her father's back, they pierced the membrane of his neck, allowing the blood to fill her mouth.

It wasn't pleasant; she particularly despised vampire blood, even more so her father's, and so she took blood with an unwillingness for it to fill her insides. Yet take it she did, and with every swallow, she felt her father grow more and more still, until the slight signs of life a vampire showed were gone.

He was dead.

As she threw him back to the ground, a book bounced out of his breast-pocket, intriguing Amelie. She had had interest in this for a long time, and now that she had the chance to discover what her father had…it was invigorating, to say the least. Whilst she wanted to read it there and then, she could not manage it; she had to ensure that she was acknowledged as the rightful Elder of the vampires, and that her rulings were immediately put into effect.

She had to ensure that she was the queen, effectively.

Standing slowly, Amelie remained over her father's body, waiting for the vampires on the other side of the field to notice the struggle was over, and that she was the one left standing, not her father. It took only minutes for this to happen, with Myrnin and Oliver leading the others across the field towards Amelie and the dead vampire on the ground at her feet.

"My father is dead," she told them simply, watching as the vampires, who had been Bishop's, shifted uncomfortably. "I am now your ruler. You have the chance to join me, in a world where your activities are your own business and I am merely your ruler, or you can die with my father, here, tonight. I would prefer the former; there has been enough bloodshed this evening, after all." She was firm, yet kind with her tone, looking each and every one of the vampires in the eyes, and that was what she felt swayed them.

They all fell to their knees, bowing their heads before their new ruler, and Amelie smiled, unable to contain her glee, even if she had wanted to.

Myrnin and Oliver took steps towards her, then hesitated, evidently due to her new position. Amelie merely inclined her head and they were moving towards her, a harrowed look on their faces.

"We must move the body to the grave we have prepared," Oliver said gravely, and Amelie nodded once more.

"I shall do it," she said softly, moving swiftly across the grass to pick up one of the cloaks that had been abandoned by the Elders when the others attacked.

Gingerly, Amelie wrapped it around her father, surreptitiously slipping the book into her pocket; she was certain that only Myrnin and Oliver had noticed, both of their eyebrows raised at her doing this, but she didn't make a comment on it for fear that the others would listen.

"Return to your normal lives, all of you," she called as those who were now her subjects rose to their feet once more. "If you have an issue, come to me. I shall be building an army, becoming the queen that you know I rightfully am. Come to me, and your problems will be aided…if possible."

With these words, the entire congregation left. Amelie was certain that there were many in their midst which were not yet loyal to her…but she would find them all. She would create her army and attack, ensuring that all vampires in the world were loyal to her. This was her goal for the end of the century, and she wasn't sure if it was entirely feasible—but it was best to have a plan, she felt.

"Show me this grave," she said quietly, lifting her father into her arms with a look of disgust on her face.

The trio of vampires moved through the field slowly, heading towards a shallow, evidently hastily dug grave on the edge of the forest.

"Good riddance," Amelie muttered as she rolled her father into the grave, no final words or anything…nothing more than a sigh of relief that this was over—and so quickly! She had expected hours of fighting…but no. She was the ruler, and it had taken a very short period of time.

"Where do we go now?" Myrnin asked as they three made their way in the direction of their home, leaving many dozens of vampires on the field. They would be destroyed by the sun, burnt into piles of ash by morning, and Amelie made the sign of the cross as they passed the fallen, to ensure that they made it into whatever happened beyond the world of the living.

"For now, we rest," Amelie said with a smile. "We experiment, we read, we fight…we do what we want. In a month's time, we can begin the building of my army.

"In a months' time, we can build my Empire."

For the first time in her life, Amelie felt that all was working well.

_Bishop's POV:_

He was weak. He was barely alive—but he was. In this barely dug grave, he could sense the atmosphere above him, yet he did not have the energy to dig himself out.

He was reliant on his loyal servants coming to rescue him…he could only hope that they would.

* * *

So this is the end of the road for this story! We're finally there!

Thanks so much for reading, and if you have, please review if you favourite...or just read.


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